Legosue? What the hell?
by Copperfang
Summary: This is my story. My name is Kyla. Basically, if you like the idea of a certain elf prince being sent to current day, this is the story for you.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yay! New story! Hope you all like it! Unlike the other story, "The Wounds a Heart Can Bear", this is a WIP. So please don't come after me with a mob if updates aren't fast coming. There will be periods when I'll be supplying fast, and some where there's either a mental block or lack of inspiration. These things happen.

I hope the first chapter is long enough for you!

-------------------

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings isn't mine. Legolas isn't mine. The world sux.

-------------------

ch.1

Hello. I see you've managed to find my story. I consider that amazing, seeing as there are possibly over a million poems, journals, fanfictions and random articles out there that are all being read by nearly everyone on the face of this earth. If you didn't know, that's a lot of people and a lot of words being thrown out there, so I applaud you for finding this.

This is my story. I may sound extremely mellow and depressing at the moment, but all I'm doing is stating a fact. There's really no need to get excited over it. I could pretend to be bouncy and preppy and all that jazz, but that's really not who I am. I'm going to tell you this _my_ way, with _my _sarcasm and _my_ sense of humor. And if _my_ sense doesn't match yours…then that's too bad, and you can go to the site that has a bunch of hopping, squealing fangirls (really, I don't know how you can squeal on the internet…) and join them.

If you're like me, a quiet, deep, dark and mysterious woman, then come on in and stay awhile. Get comfortable. I've got a story to tell. I've also got beverages, if you want them. No? All right.

I guess there's really no place to start but the beginning….

You may call me crazy; you may call me totally phsyco. That's all right. Everyone does. But I swear that it's true. I'm not a liar; I normally don't do it. What's the point of telling false tales if you're only going to get found out anyway? And by then you'd be in a lot more trouble than you would be if you had simply told the truth from the start. No, lying's not for me, so I'm not going to do it now.

Before I get to the extremely weird part, I'll introduce my life, just to set some background to start with. I don't want to thrust this at you; you'll never catch it if you don't have solid footing. Let's start with the basics:

My name is Kyla. Don't start telling me how weird a name that is; I know. You never see anybody walking around with the name Kyla. But I wanted something different, something exotic, so I changed it. My real name, my original name, is Mortisha. Would you like a name like that? No. I thought not. I'm not part of the Adams family or anything, so I don't need the name Mortisha. (For all you Mortishas out there, I pity you, unless you actually favor the name. To each her own.)

Anyway, that's my name. Kyla Edana. My last name is at least something I like that was given to me at birth. It means 'zealous' or 'fiery' in some other language. I'm not sure which. I looked it up on the internet once. It doesn't exactly fit me (except on rare occasions normally including nearly seven bottles of beer) but I'm not complaining.

I live in San Diego. I didn't move there by choice, it just happened that way. I'm currently sharing a small two-bedroom apartment with another girl named Fran. We both share the rent as well. Although, in the time frame of my story, I didn't have a job and was falling behind on my half of the rent. Fran says to everyone who cared to listen that I was fired, but I prefer the term "quit". You try working in a Wal-Mart. See where that gets you mentally and emotionally.

Fran just doesn't get that. Put on high-pitched, annoying voice: "Kyla, why don't you get a job? I'm not going to pay this rent all on my own. You wanna live on the streets? I can kick you out, you know."

God, that girl can get to me sometimes. Basically, while Fran went to work as a local newspaper reporter at around eight a.m., I slept until eleven, then "rose from the dead" and set to work searching for a job in either the paper or on the internet. That's another thing that bugged me. Fran threatened my computer privileges when she was extremely ticked off about my whole getting a job and everything. I can't live without my machine. That's fact.

Because, to tell you the truth, I didn't just look for jobs. I surfed, I updated, I reviewed, and I searched for updates. I'm the member of more sites than I can count. I thrive off of information, whether fictional or not.

And, occasionally, I looked at whatever Fran's been doing on her own desktop. I look at the sites she has listed and check them out. Don't call it prying or anything, simply call me curious. And don't start talking about dead cats or anything having to do with curiosity. Stupidity was the one that killed the cat. Curiosity was just framed.

This girl was a complete nutter. She was the member of Tolkien sites and Lord of the Rings crap, also sites that had the theme of only one of the cast or characters. Mostly this "Legolas" dude. There were bright and sparkly WebPages with the words "Greenleaf" and "Fair prince" all over, with flashy colors and guestbooks with the same squealy fangirls I abhor. Ugh. How could she like these sites, let alone become the member of one? Double ugh.

I've heard of the movies, of course, and Fran has the books, but I never really wanted to read/watch them at all. They looked extremely boring. That's not the way I am. More than once Fran's crashed on the couch and yelled for me to come into the living room to watch with her. Watch what? The "Lord of the Rings" of course. The first time I refused, then kept refusing as she kept badgering me about it. Now I don't even respond.

It's unhealthy, the way she's obsessed over it. So obsessed that I've even found sites she's the member to, even submitted to, that's reserved only for the sake of Legolas fanfiction! It should be illegal to be that dedicated to one subject or person, especially if that person is fictional. And she's the member of a few Orlando Bloom sites, and the members there are just as obsessed. If poor Mr. Bloom ever caught sight of what the girls were writing about him, he'd run for the hills screaming at the top of his pretty lungs. Hell, they even have him hooked with another _guy_. Complete whackos, if you ask me.

I guess that's all I have to say on the background. Ah, yes, almost forgot; my family hates and/or refuses to talk to me for the rest of my life. It's because of what happened to my little brother….it's the reason I became withdrawn and bitter, the reason I'm now some depressed goth. But I won't tell you what happened to my bro right now. It'll come up later. I always hate bringing it up…it's too painful. So let's just move on.

I hope I haven't bored you yet, for the exciting part's about to come. I'll simply tell you what happened: Legolas got transported into my living room.

No, wait! Don't go! It may sound stupid, but really, it happened! Just give me a chance to tell you _how_ it happened. I would appreciate it if you would simply listen, give me a chance. Sit down; I don't want to be afraid of you running off in the middle of my story. Yes, easy now. Good. Now I'll continue.

It was a normal day. Honestly, it was. Cheesy beginning, but it's all I got. Anyway, I woke up at my usual eleven o' clock in the morning, I walked into my same kitchen with the same cruddy mess all over the counter, made the same coffee in the same coffee maker, and sat down at the same rickety table. "Same" is such a boring word, don't you think? One syllable, one meaning: usual, boring crap that never changes.

I grabbed the paper and sifted through the job listings, as I did every morning, sipping at my coffee at the same time. There's that word again. Same. Heck, I hardly read the descriptions thoroughly anymore. I just glance over it and head for the comics. It might not get me anywhere, but that's life, or mine, at least.

After my coffee's done, I slap the paper onto the counter along with the remains of the newspapers from the entire week, making the pile on the counter an even bigger mess, and trudge into the other room, where the computer sits in the corner. I turn it on, and get to "work". I began the usual stuff: updating, checking, writing. Over and over again, in a cycle. It keeps me occupied; once I'm bored of one thing I move to another. That's how it goes. I didn't suspect anything to be different that day.

Of course, I've heard of magic and illusions and other crap like that, but I never believed in it. Who does? Everybody, even children, know that magicians are relying on clever manipulations of light and solid form. It's not real magic. But I got a taste of real magic that day, you could say.

How do you expect a person to appear when they've been transported from one world to the next? Right side up, right? On their feet? Not the case today.

First I became aware of an odd sensation of energy that left the hair on my arms standing on end. It felt as if all the particles of magnetic force were being invisibly drawn towards the center of the room. The lights dimmed; the computer screen flickered. I had no idea what was going on, and, frankly, I was terrified to say the least. The objects in the room began vibrating—yes, vibrating, I could hear them all rattling—and papers began flying. It was like an indoor vortex. By now I had dived for the floor and was covering my head in my arms, hoping the event would soon pass.

It did with a brilliant flash of light, and the papers fluttered to the floor, the lights came back on only to fizz out, and the computer gave an ominous sizzle. There was a loud bang and a crash, and I thought I heard the cry of someone that'd been hurt. Of course, after something like that happens to someone, they're not going to just hop up, brush themselves off, and say, "Well, back to life!" No duh they're not.

I sure wasn't. I'm not sure how long I stayed prone on the floor, but it seemed like an eternity to me. Finally, I uncovered my head and sat up, carefully peering around at the now cluttered room. Other than the huge and totally unexpected mess, everything seemed normal. My heart rate gradually slowed down and I began to relax. In my relief, I didn't bother trying to think of how that could have happened.

Relief then turned to fear as I saw another form beginning to rise from the sea of papers and worthless junk. I sat, immobilized, as the lean shape of a man straightened and slowly, cautiously, it seemed, began to raise itself up onto outstretched arms. My first thought was: _How the hell did he get in here?_ I would have grabbed something to throw at him had he not then raised his head, revealing his features.

"Oh, shit," I whispered incredulously, unconsciously backing against the wall. I could have recognized that face anywhere: it was all over Fran's walls, her notebooks, her diary (not that I had read it…), and her websites. The features that the entire world of fangirls dreamed about was on the face of this man—or elf, I should say.

Yup, you guessed it. The person sitting in front of me was none other than Mr. Legolas Greenleaf himself. How is one supposed to react to what they thought was a fictional character suddenly appearing in the middle of the room by an unknown freak of nature? What was I supposed to do? Kick him out? Invite him to sit down and have a glass of milk and cookies? Was I supposed to _move_, for one? Because I had felt like I was carved from stone. All I could do was stare.

He apparently hadn't noticed me yet. He was gazing around at the room with a look of confusion and slight apprehension. He also seemed a bit dazed and disoriented. Well, I couldn't blame him. Transporting from one world to the next must be dizzying! Of course, I've never done it, so how would I know?

When he turned his head, I saw the bright red mark of a wound on the left side of his forehead, just above his temple. Blood was running down the side of his face. Really, I found out what had happened later. He had appeared hovering nearly four feet above the floor, horizontally, and when he fell, his head had been clipped on the corner of a table. Not a very comfortable way of being transported, but hey, it's a way to get around, I guess.

When I saw the wound, a motherly instinct rose within me. After all, I'd been that way with my little brother, before he…And I'd learned all of my skills from a course taken in high school. I had had the highest scores in the class. I knew that an injury like that could fester if it wasn't taken care of properly.

That was what roused me into motion. I slowly got to my knees, brushing aside bits of paper as I rose. The slight noise caught his attention, and his head whipped around, his sapphire eyes meeting mine. Jeez, I've never seen anyone so scared. He stared at me like I was the walking dead or something. There was an…instinctual aura around him, and he was tense, as if he would bolt like a deer if I made any movement whatsoever.

Truthfully, I pitied him. It must have scared the crap out of him to be suddenly sent to a world unfamiliar, not to mention extremely overwhelming. For that reason, I slowly got to my feet, holding my hands out in a reassuring manner. He stood in an instant, that very movement made graceful by his natural elegance, his slim body still tense and his eyes flicking the interior of the room, as if searching for a way to escape.

"Shh…Don't run, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," I whispered, at the same time taking a step forward. He didn't move, only watched me with bright, deep, sapphire eyes. I felt like I was approaching a frightened horse, the way we both acted. I carefully took another step towards him. He still didn't move. Perhaps he was unsure whether to accept me or run away from me. The uncertainty kept him rooted, however, and, encouraged, I came a bit closer.

I had heard tales (too many, if you ask me) from Fran about the character of Legolas. I'd heard so many things having to do with his bravery and courage, his skills and his drop-dead gorgeous looks. Right now, except for the drop-dead gorgeous looks, he fitted none of those descriptions. What I saw in front of me was not a god, as so many fangirls referred to him as; what I saw was a poor creature that was confused, hurt, scared and looking to be in desperate need of tenderness.

Odd enough, but I wanted to be the one to give it to him.

When I was about three feet away from him, I reached out with my hand, carefully, hoping not to scare him away. Before my fingertips could even graze his arm, he flinched back. I jumped at the sudden movement, lightning quick as it was, and snapped my hand back in surprise. We gazed at each other for a long moment, neither of us moving.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I repeated softly, hoping my voice would soothe him. He didn't respond, only stared. Again, I reached out, but this time he let me touch his arm. He hardly moved as I slid it upwards to rest on his shoulder. When my palm rested on his slim shoulder, I realized that there were slight quavers shaking his body. He was trembling. Damn, this poor guy must have been freaked.

"Calm down, it's alright," I whispered, gently turning his head to gaze at the wound on the side of his head. He closed his eyes as he let me maneuver his position to see the cut easier, and he deepened his breathing, obviously trying to do as I said and ease his nerves.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice almost too soft to be audible. Despite the shaking in his body, his voice was steady, flat.

"You're…" I paused, wondering what to tell him. First of all, I didn't know whether to believe that he was really Legolas or not. I mean, he looked like the guy pasted on the walls of Fran's room, but was it really him? And how the hell did he appear in my apartment? Since when did God want to screw me over like this? I was only Kyla, the girl that had no job, had no life. Why would this happen to someone like me? There were billions of other people on this earth; why weren't _they_ messed with?

Then again, maybe because nothing was happening in my life, God decided to send me this little gift: my very own Legolas. Sure, he was in need of a bit of repair, and he obviously was frightened beyond what would be believed to be emotionally healthy, but he was still at my mercy. My mercy…that sounds so ugly, when I really am a compassionate person. So let's say he was under my care.

And because I wanted him to trust me and relax, I wasn't about to give him the first impression of me as a liar.

"You're in San Diego, California," I replied calmly. A look of confusion passed over "Legolas'" face (remember, I didn't know whether to believe it was really him or not) and he opened his eyes.

"I've never heard of that place…" he murmured, glancing around the room again. "Is it near Harad? I've never really explored that territory." Now it was my turn to be confused. What the hell was Harad?

"Um…I don't think it's near Harad," I said carefully, releasing his face once I'd gotten a good estimation of the extent of the damage for his injury. "But…can you come with me to the kitchen? I can help you clean up your wound."

It was an abrupt change of subject, and I knew that. I didn't know what the heck he was talking about, so I changed the subject. It's like a defense mechanism, you could say. He nodded anyway, though, and I brushed past him to the door, stepping over the odd bits and ends that had ended up on the floor through his arrival. Now really wasn't the time to think on what had happened. Now was the time to help him with his injury and get him a bit more settled before speaking on the matter. He followed me to the door, but then stopped before he stepped over the threshold, his wary eyes taking in what he could see from the doorway.

I halted when I realized he wasn't following me anymore. "There's nothing to be afraid of," I called back, and I could just feel the itch over my eyebrow that wanted me to raise it in a sarcastic gesture.

He didn't reply, only let his gaze sweep over the hallway from where he was standing. I bit back an impatient sigh. "I know you're frightened, but you can trust me, Legolas." The name slipped out by mistake. I hadn't meant to do it.

His eyes flew to me instantly, and they widened in what seemed to be astonishment and disbelief mingled with fear and caution. "How…how did you…?" he spluttered, clearly struggling to form a coherent sentence. I shook my head, allowing a sigh past my lips.

"It's a long story that you'll find out later," I said, holding out my hand in a beckoning motion. "But come with me. That injury isn't going to get better with you just standing there." He nodded and stepped through the door, following me down the hall. He stared at everything we passed, not touching anything but the carpet he tread over. He seemed not to recognize anything, not even the lamps, and there was honest curiosity and wonder in his eyes when I flicked the switch to turn on the kitchen lights overhead.

I observed him carefully as he stood in the center of the kitchen, visually drinking everything in. I pretended to be busy with gathering the necessary items from one of the cabinets, but I was really looking at him the entire time from the corner of my eye. What else was I to think but that the being standing in the middle of my kitchen was Legolas? There really was no other logical answer. I had no idea how he came to be in my apartment, or why, or even what I was supposed to do now.

I guessed one step at a time, like my brother used to say.

Shaking my head to rid it of painful memories, I overturned the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and let it soak into the cloth I held in my left hand. Once there was enough of the substance in the fabric, I turned to Legolas, who had been currently staring at the coffee maker like it was a cobra with wings and two hoofed feet.

"Hey," I said to get his attention. He turned to me, and I showed him the cloth before pressing it to his head. I didn't want to startle him with anything; this was clearly unusual (such a lovely word!) and frightening for him and I didn't want to make it any worse.

Legolas flinched and hissed softly as the cloth came in contact with his wound. I winced slightly in sympathy as I began cleaning the cut as gently as I could. He soon forgot about the pain and wrinkled his nose distastefully as the strong smell of the hydrogen peroxide penetrated his senses.

"What is that?" he asked. Despite his uneasiness of the situation, he clearly was still in possession of his sense of curiosity.

"Hydrogen peroxide," I replied. "It's for medicinal purposes. It cleans out any bacteria that may be festering within a cut." He obviously had never heard of it, for the look on his face, but he held back any other questions he had.

I finished cleaning the wound and wiped the blood from the side of his face before placing a patch over the injury. He gingerly touched the bandaged cut with his fingertips, then dropped his hand. I began cleaning up the supplies I had used and put them away in the cupboard.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "By the way, you haven't yet told me your name." I turned to look at him and met his eyes. Like twin pools of sapphire, I mused, sparkling and…deep with experience.

I'm not exactly sure what occurred within the next few seconds, but it seemed as if something clicked deep in my mind. My vision darkened, and I suddenly felt…wiser, older, as if I were a thousand years old, yet at the same time still young and vigorous. I felt as if time had slowed down, nearly come to an abrupt halt and continue on at a snail's pace. My senses were thrown outward, and everything was sharper. But most of all, I caught snatches of conversations I couldn't follow, some of them even in languages I couldn't understand or name, and the feelings that were garnered by the flitting voices going through my head.

And as sudden as it had come, it stopped. I swayed a bit and grabbed the edge of the counter for support. Legolas was still standing in the same place, still watching me, and he didn't seem surprised at all at my behavior. I had no idea what had just occurred, and the fact that he seemed to know made me blink. I could read it in his gaze…he knew.

"My…my name's Kyla," I managed to gasp, composing myself enough to release the counter and stand on my own. Legolas smiled for the first time; it was small and brief, but it seemed to light his face for the moment. Whoa, why did he suddenly look so good?

"Kyla," he repeated, as if testing the word. He stepped forward, his movements like liquid, and took my hand. He bowed while gently placing his lips on its knuckles. I felt my eyebrows rise. No man had ever bowed to me before, let alone kiss my hand.

"'Tis a pleasure meeting you, Kyla," he said as he straightened. "I believe you are already aware of my identity, so I will spare you the introduction." I couldn't say anything, only nod dumbly.

Well, if I was stuck with this guy (or elf) for unknown reasons, at least he's a complete gentleman! I felt blessed. All the guys I had been with either treated me as a piece of their property or simply disrespectfully, as if it was their right just because I was their girlfriend. This was a nice change.

Damn, I must have been the luckiest gal in the world! My very own Lego-sue!

-------------------

Well, should I keep going? Reviews most welcome! Tell me what you think; constructive criticism, praises, I can handle. But NO flaming, please! Thank you! -grin-


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry for the brief delay; we're painting my living room a brighter color (ugh) and then my dad got pissed at me for some reason and banned me from the computer for a while. But I'm back:oD And here's the second chapter! btw, thank you SO much for the reviews, I'm glad you like it! I know things like this have been done before, but I wanted my own shot at it, and this is what's coming out! Till next time!

----------------

Disclaimer: Alas! Cruel world, thy grief is great. Thou hast no ownership o'er the characters of "Thee Lord o' thy Rings". Thoust shall ne'er taste the satisfaction of owning thee, Legolas o' Mirkwood. Alas. (haha, I luv Shakespere)

----------------

ch.2

After I helped clean his wound, I began showing him around my home, explaining to him the different electrical appliances and unfamiliar objects we came across. He had been curious about a few items, and when I cleared away his confusion on them, he moved on to some others. It took nearly the whole day, not that I'm complaining. Legolas is friendly and sweet to be around, and after a while he began to relax in my presence, which made it a lot easier for me as well.

And I'm not saying I have the biggest house in the world either, but I know I have a LOT of crap lying around, and Legolas seemed to want to know positively _everything _about _everything_, so I made sure to tell him _everything_. He was like an inquisitive child, and that was endearing, in an odd way in itself.

The guy didn't know what plastic was. Imagine.

Really, it was a welcomed distraction that turned us away from talking about how he had somehow appeared here. We really had no ideas on how he could have been transported to my world, so we kept our minds off of it.

It was a bit rough trying to explain it to him in a way that he would understand. I'm guessing our worlds were hundreds of years apart. He missed important inventions and discoveries, and it didn't help that he had not been born growing up with these types of things. When you were a child, the things were just there, and you really didn't care how they worked or how they came to be. Take TV, for example. Do you really ponder how the images are able to appear behind the screen when you're watching Barney bounce around his little schoolyard?

For Legolas, it was staggering to see what appeared to be living beings moving and interacting with one another beyond a slab of glass. He fell to his knees in front of the TV and stared at the flashing pictures, a thoughtful/immensely confused look on his face, his eyes following every movement of Jesse from the sitcom _Full House_. He even reached out to tentatively touch the surface of the screen as the children of the family darted past, the youngest of them murmuring some smart-ass comment that no four-year-old could ever conjure.

"How is this possible?" Legolas whispered, almost to himself. He seemed to have forgotten my presence behind him. "Is it some sort of powerful sorcery…?"

"There is no sorcery here," I piped up from behind, pressing the power button to switch off the TV. He seemed to snap out of a trance; he was on his feet before I even saw him move.

"How, then?" he asked, his brow still furrowed with deep confusion. "If not sorcery, then…" He made an exasperated move at the now blackened TV screen. The gesture was quite comical and I found myself smiling kindly.

"Brilliant minds," I said, tapping my temple, "paired with complicated technology. Everything here isn't made from magic, it's made from almost a billion people starting out with an idea and striving to make it come alive."

"Is there purpose to these ideas?" Legolas asked. "Is that device used for anything important?" He pointed at the remote in my hand. I shook my head while setting the rectangle of plastic down on the coffee table.

"No," I replied laconically.

"Then why create it?" Poor thing, you could see in his eyes that he was struggling with these concepts, trying to understand, trying to grasp them.

"Some inventions are made to make our lives easier," I said slowly. I pointed at the remote resting silently on the table. "For instance, that remote was created long after the TV for one purpose: to make our lives easier. There are buttons on a television that we can press, but someone, somewhere, got tired of getting up to switch the settings, so they made a remote to allow them relaxation. Now people don't have to get up to press the buttons; they're all right here, in our hands."

Legolas stared at the remote, a thoughtful expression still on his face. Holy cow, with that head wound and immense thinking he was doing, I was surprised he didn't get a killer headache.

"Then…if the remote was made to change the pictures on the TV…" Legolas murmured, plotting it all out in his mind, one step at a time, "…and to make lives easier…then what was the TV created for?"

"Sheer enjoyment," I responded with a small smile. "Life would be extremely dull without it." Legolas cocked his head, like a naïve puppy. He obviously had no idea how cute he looked when he did that.

"You can travel," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "See new places." I shook my head.

"That costs money," I said, "money that you need to earn, and I don't have a job."

"You need money to travel?" he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You cannot simply walk through your door and begin walking?" I laughed softly, shaking me head again.

"You can," I said, "but we've created new ways of travel that are faster than walking. Cars, planes…" His brow furrowed again.

"Do you not have horses?" he asked innocently. I sighed; not an impatient one, far from it. It was more of a you-poor-naïve-being sigh than it was a can-we-not-move-on sigh.

"Our systems are even faster than horses," I explained. "The people that do have horses can use them for three things: they can train them to do hurtles for competitions, they can train them to run extremely fast to participate in races, or they can simply have horses to ride for fun." I counted the list off on my fingers. "If they do more with the beasts I wouldn't know. But no one really uses them for travel anymore."

Legolas' face was the very definition of confusion and traces of a lost concept. He passed his hand over his golden hair restlessly, his eyes on the floor. "Well…what are your systems of traveling?" he asked finally. "What are cars, planes?" I let my breath out in a puff. Oh boy. This was going to take some time.

"Come with me," I said, and he followed me into the kitchen. There I pulled out some magazines and flipped to a car ad. I laid it out on the counter and began explaining what a car was. Have you ever had a teacher that's given you an assignment, saying, "Explain it thoroughly enough so that even someone who's never heard of it before would understand"? Now I remember why it was so hard to do. No one had ever really met another person who didn't understand what a car or plane was, or even electricity.

It must have been overwhelming for Legolas, by the look on his face.

It took me some time and a lot of patience, but I eventually passed the ideas of cars and planes to Legolas, who finally declared that he understood. I then resisted the urge to groan when he pointed to the kitchen sink. Time to explain plumbing to this boy.

I exited the kitchen, Legolas a pace behind me, and trudged down the hallway to the bathroom. That elf walks as silently as a ghost; I hadn't realized that he'd fallen behind until I'd reached the door of the bathroom. I glanced back to see him gone, then saw his shadow entering another room a few doors down.

Uh oh.

Fran's room.

I bounded down the hall and skidded to a stop by her door. With Fran's obsession for Lord of the Rings and other whatnot, she obviously had numerous posters decorating her walls. And it was only practical to have your favorite character's face plastered all over the room. Legolas' sharp eyes had captured the sight as he walked past the door. Shit.

He was standing in the center of the room, his hands hanging limply at his sides, his shoulders slightly slumped in what was either amazement, disbelief, or complete shock. I couldn't see his face, so I couldn't tell. I stayed silent, not sure of what I could say. Finally I just sighed.

"Legolas," I said softly. "I…I know this is…a shock—"

"A **_shock_**?"

He had so far used a soft and gentle voice around me, so I was immensely startled when the words ripped abruptly from his throat. He whirled around, and I could see not only anger in his eyes…but fear. And I didn't blame him.

"What am I supposed to make of this?" he asked me, sweeping his arm out, an overall gesture that included the posters imprinted with his face and name. "What am I supposed to do when I see—" He gulped, cutting off the rest of his sentence as he turned to look at one of his posters. He reached out with a trembling hand and touched the tips of his fingers gingerly to the paper, tracing his image's outline.

"What am I supposed to think when I see my picture here, along with my name, decorating a wall?" he whispered, and his voice shook with nearly every syllable. "How am I to cope?" He turned back to me, and gone was confusion, the anger had vanished. What I saw now was simple, single fear written all over his face. "How am I supposed to deal with all of this?" he asked me, and I could have sworn I saw raw desperation for consolation etched in the sapphire depths of his eyes. "All of this…confusion, all of these new things. How am I going to adapt to a world so blindingly different from my own?"

Had he been hiding this nameless fear from me all this time? Through the things I was explaining, I'd never thought that he could be this frightened, this intimidated by my world. But then I thought, of course he's frightened, you dolt! How would you react in a situation like this?

Legolas was staring at the posters again, his breathing a bit ragged. I don't think he could bring himself to tear his eyes away from something that had simply sent him over the edge, broke his reserve. He was shaking so badly I could see it from where I was standing at the door. He seemed so different from the noble, brave pictures on the wall, and I felt sorry for him.

When he looked back at me, he must have seen the pity in my eyes, for then his face hardened. "I don't need your sympathy," he whispered stubbornly, but his voice was still quavering. I shook my head slowly, then swiftly strode into the room the enveloped him in my arms. His last words had undone me. Still, in all of this fear in confusion he was experiencing, he tried to be brave, and I couldn't help but admire him for it. I normally gave up quickly, usually never having enough strength to keep fighting.

Legolas stiffened when I wrapped him in my embrace, but he didn't push me away, as I had expected. He stayed stiff and still for a moment, but then he relaxed and allowed me to comfort him. He rested his forehead against my shoulder.

"I'm not sure I can do this," he murmured softly, his voice slightly muffled.

"Do what?" I asked, just as quietly.

"Adapt to this world," he replied, lifting his head slightly to glance at the posters, but then hiding his face against my shoulder again, as if trying to hide from his own image. "Adjust to these strange new things. I don't know if I can."

"I'll help you," I said with conviction I didn't know I had, "I can help you get used to all of this." Legolas lifted his head again to look at me, the sapphire eyes hopeful.

"You will?" he asked softly, sounding like a puppy that had just heard someone declare that they were being taken home.

"Yes," I replied, my voice firm. "I want to help you." He smiled slightly, a small spark entering his eyes. Dammit, why did he have to be so handsome?

"_Hannon le_," he said simply. Before I could ask what that meant, I heard the front door bang loudly, shaking the whole house. Legolas flinched violently in my arms, his head snapping towards the bedroom door in alarm. Just then a voice drifted down the hall.

"Kyla? You here? Yo, Kyla!"

Shit, could Fran have chosen a more inconvenient time to come home from work?

------------------

So, how'd ya like it? Thy shalt wait for thee's reviews! Thanx.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Yay! 'Nother update! I worked my butt off last night trying to get this finished so I could post it before I bounced off to school. I succeeded! Sorry if this is too long, but I had so many ideas and I didn't want to cut this chapter in half. So, here it is! Hope you like it!

A/N2: And a _huge_ THANK YOU to all of my reviewers! You've all flattered me, really! A couple of you said my characters had depth. I thank you for that comment, because that was what I was going for. I've seen other stories like this, and Legolas never seems affected by a strange new world. I mean, elves have feelings too, right? Of course he would be scared shitless! And, just for the record, he's going to be a little frightened for the first couple of chapters before he relaxes and gets used to things. Just so you don't think I'm trying to make him some giant wimp. So, I'm really glad all of you like my story so far! I hope you like the new chapter!

---------------

Disclaimer: Insert witty comment claiming that I don't own Legolas here: >

(it's too early)

---------------

ch.3

"Kyla!"

Legolas seemed uneasy again, and he glanced back and forth from me to the door. "Who's that?" he asked softly. I could see him pulling a mask over his features, and he went tense in my arms, his eyes watching the door intently should anyone try and come in.

"That…that's Fran," I said, releasing Legolas from my hold and peering out through the ajar door. "My roommate." Fran seemed to think I wasn't in, for she went into the kitchen and started heating up some leftover ziti from the night before. I backed away from the door and turned to Legolas, who was still standing rigidly in the center of the room, his face impassive and prepared. I held up my hands, as if I were warding off an enemy, and gestured at him and the room.

"S-stay here, alright?" I said uncertainly. "I'll be back…I just need to somehow break the news to Fran." And with that I slipped out the door and headed down the hall to the kitchen.

"Kyla," Fran said past a mouthful of pasta, "I thought you weren't here." I tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. I leaned against the counter and played with thee edges of the tiles.

"No…I'm here," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and as normal sounding as I could. I cleared my throat faintly and looked up at her. "Um…Fran?"

"Yah?"

"Something…happened."

She looked at me oddly. "Are you alright, Kyla? You seem…weirded out." I gave a choked chuckle and avoided her eyes, instead looking at the floor.

"Um, well…I kinda am," I said carefully, scratching the back of my neck.

"Why? Kyla, what—oh, shit."

I looked back up at her to realize that she wasn't looking at me, but at something over my shoulder, her eyes about as wide as they could ever get. My heart pounded painfully inside my chest as I turned to see what I had expected…and feared. Legolas was standing behind me, staring right back at Fran, his sapphire eyes wary, calculating. I took a deep breath.

"Ah, well, speak of the devil," I said, attempting to break the awkward silence stretching out rapidly like a slinky being extended between two five-year-old children. I walked to Legolas' side and placed a hand on his arm. "Fran…this is Legolas. Legolas, Fran." The two of them didn't move, one because of caution and distrust, the other because of shock and near disbelief. Another long silence began to expand. I kept silent because I didn't know what to say. It was up to them now; I did my part.

"Is this some sort of joke?"

Out of all the things I expected Fran to say, that was the one I expected least. I had actually expected her to throw herself at him, shrieking shrilly about dreams coming true or something. She was just about his biggest fan. But that wasn't what I was expecting.

Her tone wasn't accusatory, just…I'm not sure what it was exactly. And I couldn't read her face, either. She just kept…staring, a not-too-intelligent look on her pale face. "This is a joke, right?" she asked desperately, placing the container on the counter before it dropped from her trembling fingers. "Mike lost weight, and you two did this to surprise me? Please tell me that's what happened." I struggled to stifle a laugh and just managed to bite back the comment, "Mike can _never _lose weight and he never will." He was Fran's boyfriend, a nice guy…but he was a major food addict. Not such a turn-on.

"This isn't Mike," I said carefully. "This is Legolas." Fran stared at me, then at Legolas, then back at me. She gave me a quizzical/sarcastic look.

"Kyla, you're off your rocker," she said. The trembling had gone down in her limbs and the highly incredulous glint in her eyes had faded. She picked up the container and began sifting the ziti with her fork. "It was a very nice joke, but you can tell your little friend here," she gestured at Legolas beside me, "to take off the blonde wig and go home. Really, sometimes I don't understand your sense of humor." She shook her head and turned to the sink.

"This is _not _a joke, Fran!" I said earnestly, slapping my open palm against the counter. "I'm being serious! This _is_ Legolas." That statement was not the best one to choose and only made me sound like more of an idiot. Fran turned to face me.

"Kyla, now you're taking this way too far," she said sternly. "Get that guy out of here!" She pointed at the door violently. I clenched and unclenched my fists, struggling to come up with some kind of solution. How was I going to explain this to her?

"Kyla…?" Legolas whispered uncertainly beside me, his deep blue eyes wide and uncertain as to what he should do. He glanced at the front door, the unspoken question written in the glimmering depths of his eyes.

"No, you're staying here," I murmured back, placing my hand on his slim shoulder. I turned to Fran and said, louder this time, "Can I try to explain?" She crossed her arms and extended a foot, looking and acting like the bitch that emerged whenever she was severely ticked off.

"I think he should leave, **_now_**," she said, her voice raising a few notches. Legolas winced slightly as the sound bounced around the apartment. Then she sighed and uncrossed her arms. "Look, I'm getting tired of this." She crossed the kitchen in a few strides and marched straight up to Legolas, a fiery glint in her eyes. She extended a hand, reaching for his head, apparently so she could remove the supposed wig that didn't exist.

Apparently the movement startled Legolas, and it had the effect one would get when moving too fast around an extremely nervous cat. He batted her hand away and leapt away from her. While Fran was still trying to comprehend why her hand hadn't reached its target, Legolas backed away, his movements swift and graceful and his feet soundless on the floor. His whole body was tense as a bowstring and his muscles seemed to thrum with energy. He was preparing himself for a fight.

Again, I felt pity for him. He was frightened, as he had just revealed, and Fran wasn't making things any better with her stupid assumptions. I glared at her and grabbed her hand, tugging her swiftly down the hallway and into the computer room. There I shoved her inside and slammed the door after me, whirling on her and about to give her a severe verbal lashing.

"Oh my GOD, what _happened_ in here?" Fran asked, her eyes wide and surveying the cluttered mess that had been brought by Legolas' appearance. I shook my head sharply.

"Don't draw off the subject here," I said, every syllable doused with extreme frustration and anger. "I brought you in here to talk about Legolas." Fran's eyes were immediately back on me and they crackled with fury.

"This isn't funny anymore," she said, instantly forgetting about the huge mess in the room as her attention returned to the topic of whether Legolas was really him or not. "I've had enough of this game, Kyla, so tell your friend to leave!"

"This—is—not—a—joke!" I ground out, my ire rising. Dammit, why couldn't she just face the fact? Fran groaned and rolled her head back on her shoulders in the exaggerated eye roll.

"Kyla—!"

"Would I be persisting this much if it was a joke?" I interrupted furiously. "You know me, Fran, for almost five years. I don't bluff. I suck at it. Why can't you just see that this is really him?"

"Because Legolas isn't meant to exist!" she shot back. "He's _fic-tion-al_!" I felt my fist curl as she practically spelled out the word, as if I was retarded. "Some old guy made him up so he could represent elves in the fellowship…and that was years ago anyway. What I'm trying to say is: it simply is NOT possible that the dude out there could be Legolas!" I took a deep breath, tried to calm myself. There was no use speaking when angry; it could force you to blurt something you didn't mean.

"You see this mess?" I asked, my voice deceptively calm. Fran nodded, her rage-filled eyes flicking around the room before settling back on me. "Well," I said pleasantly, "it was caused by the person standing in our living room." I paused a tic. "He—"

"You mean he _trashed our house_?" Fran erupted suddenly. She reached for the doorknob, obviously intending to cause Legolas some sort of intentional harm, but I grabbed her wrist before she could touch the metal of the knob. I flung her arm away.

"Would you just _listen_ to me!" I shrieked with more power than I thought possible. That seemed to pacify Fran, for she backed away from the door, still looking furious, but turning to listen to whatever I had to say. Wow, I should use that method more often; it seemed to work perfectly!

As calmly as I could, I explained what had happened that morning. I told her of the vortex in the room, and how Legolas just happened to appear after it was over. I then told her about how he seemed honestly intrigued by our technology, not to mention confused. Fran's anger dissipated swiftly as she listened, and soon she simply appeared skeptical.

"Have you examined him?" she asked when I was finished. I threw her a glance that ranged between astonishment and utter confusion. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I mean, checked out his body to find out if he was really an elf or not?" Fran used to be a school nurse. Of course she would think of that.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Are there certain things we should look for? Besides pointed ears?" I added as Fran looked ready to point to the rounded whorl of her own ear. Fran tapped her foot in thought.

"I'm not sure. Maybe I should just have a look at him," she finally decided. I nodded and grabbed the doorknob again. Before I opened the door, I turned back to Fran and raised a strict finger.

"Be gentle with him," I said firmly. "This is an odd experience for him…and he's a little frightened. Just make sure you don't freak him out with anything." Instead of objecting with a sarcastic comment, as I had expected, Fran only nodded. Apparently the look in my eyes told her no jokes.

I opened the door and made my way down the hall and into the living room. It was empty, to my surprise. "Legolas?" I called, heading towards the kitchen. We found him perched on top of the counter, sitting cross-legged, with his hands resting lightly on his crossed ankles. He was staring at the floor, his eyes unfocused and cloudy.

"Legolas," I said again, this time softer than before. He didn't stir. I put a hand on his knee, and he flinched violently, his legs uncurling and his arms hefting him from his seated position. He landed soundlessly on the tile floor and with more grace than I could ever dream of having for simply walking. When he turned his eyes to us, they were clear and sharp.

Getting over the brief surprise I'd had when he had jumped to the floor in less time than I could blink, I said, "Legolas, Fran wants to take a look at you." Legolas' gaze flickered to Fran, who stepped forward, her face expressionless, and cleared her throat.

"Why?" Legolas asked abruptly, and I could feel him inching closer to me, his eyes still resting uncertainly on my roommate. I was filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling. I'm not sure why, but the fact that Legolas seemed to find my presence comforting and look to me for security in what was to him a strange new world made me feel…wanted, needed, in a way, when I've dealt with the feeling of uselessness for so long. In response, I placed a warm hand on his arm.

"She…wants to clear away any doubts," I said confidently. "She won't hurt you, I promise." He nodded slowly, still seeming uncertain, but allowing me to step away and Fran come closer. Instead of immediately going to his ears, hidden behind a veil of golden hair, she bent over and began testing his muscles.

"Try to relax," she murmured kindly to him, for his thews were tense. He nodded again and took a deep breath, and he seemed to visibly deflate. The tautness disappeared, and Fran nodded in satisfaction before she returned to testing his muscles. I could tell he was using every ounce of his will so he didn't clench his muscles again. I watched as she carefully felt his arms and saw to his shoulders, her touch gentle. She then ordered,

"Take off your shirt." Legolas glanced at me, and when I nodded, he undid the ties at the neck of his shirt and slipped it off. Okay, now don't think me cheesy, but I had to catch myself before I gawked. I mean, he was _gorgeous_. He was lean and slender, almost as slim as a woman was, but he seemed to emanate strength and masculinity. I seemed content to lay back and watch his muscles ripple beneath his skin. God only knew what I was thinking at that moment. Fran also stared for a moment (I swear that when her mouth fell open, I saw drool), but then the task she was performing seemed to slap her back into reality, for she began to move again before the situation became awkward.

Fran ran her hands over his skin (a bit too sensually, might I add), then traced the outline of his spine. She stopped when he shivered violently and bowed his head, his back arching slightly into her touch, almost like a cat. Fran's eyebrows puckered in slight confusion.

"Cold?" she asked, apparently choosing to ignore Legolas' other reactions to her touch. Legolas shook his head.

"Nay," he responded. "Elves don't feel heat or cold as much as humans. But…our spines are immensely sensitive."

"Hmm…" Fran hummed absentmindedly, as she tested his shoulder blades. "Bend over, please." Legolas did as he was told and folded over at the waist, and Fran checked to see that his spine was in order. "Alright, you can stand up." As Legolas straightened, Fran came over to me, her face one of confusion.

"You're done already?" I asked when she was close enough. She shook her head.

"No," she replied, "I still have a little more to do. But…" She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "…It's a little weird. I mean, his muscles…they seem too…minute to hold that kind of strength. And when I touched his spine…" She shook her head. "Even when I touch Mike like that with his shirt off, he doesn't react that strongly. Come to think of it, no one I've ever met has responded like that. It's weird."

"Do you believe me now?" I asked, a bit smugly, I admit, leaning against the counter. Fran looked back at me, since she had been gazing at Legolas thoughtfully, and raised an eyebrow at my question.

"Not until I complete the physical," she said, and with that, she walked back over to Legolas. After that, Fran did various tests that had to do with his eyes and the condition of his throat and mouth. She looked very confused when she backed away after checking his eyes for the seemingly third time, as if she was trying to see if she had made a mistake. Then she shook her head, bemused, and ran a hand over her face. She released a breath and moved to the ultimate test: his ears. Since she was a midget, she asked him to incline his head so she could reach it. She brushed aside his sweeping hair and inspected the delicately pointed shell of his ear.

Then she reached up to gingerly trace the pad of her finger along the edge and then to the tip of the gracefully swept ear. He jerked in response and pulled back, his eyes snapping shut as he gasped softly and turned his face away from us. I pushed away from the counter, utterly confused and concerned at his behavior. He had been fine thus far; I didn't know what had gone wrong.

"Legolas?" I asked, reaching forward to touch his arm. A movement that he had accepted before was now shunned, and he recoiled beneath my touch, causing me to draw back. The whole time he kept his face hidden from us, his body shaking systematically with uncontrollable tremors. "Legolas, what is it?"

"I…it…e-excuse me," he choked out, his voice sounding strangled. He then brushed past me and hurried down the hall, entering the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. I glanced at Fran, whose wide eyes were trained on the bathroom door. Her look seemed to be that of comprehension. I pushed that thought out of my mind, intending to question her about it later, and made to follow Legolas.

"Kyla, wait," Fran suddenly said. I halted, impatient. She fidgeted a bit with the hem of her shirt, her eyes trained on the floor. Finally she looked up at me. "Um…I-I believe you," she said, and I could tell she was telling the truth. I blinked a few times, wondering why she had changed her mind about this.

"Why?" I asked. Fran's fidgeting increased to twice of what it had been before. She refused to meet my eyes and kept silent for a little while. I finally lost my last shred of patience. "Look, Fran, I'm curious, but I'm more worried about Legol—"

"He won't appreciate your company very much right now," Fran interrupted. She sighed and released the abused edge of her shirt and sat down on one of the tall stools beside the counter. "Sit down, Kyla." I was too confused by what she had said to refuse. Fran tapped the surface of the counter with one long fingernail for a few moments before speaking.

"Okay…how should I explain this?…Well, Tolkien created what his definition of elves was. It included a lot of odd qualities, like…sleeping with their eyes open," she explained. I nodded, wondering if this was true and what Legolas would look like sleeping with his eyes open. "Anyway," Fran continued, "one of the traits of elves has to do with their ears." Here she paused, clearly uncertain on how she should continue. "According to him, an elf's ear is only touched when mating. I should have remembered this before I put…Legolas…into any embarrassing situation, but I only recalled it after the damage had been done."

I stared at her for a little while. "You mean elves get hard-ons when their ears are messed with?" I asked, putting it bluntly. Fran simpered, a small blush rising in her cheeks.

"Well…they get…aroused," she said, her voice quiet. "Their ears are only supposed to be touched during sex. I forgot that. I think I embarrassed him." She seemed honestly sorry, and her fingers began fidgeting again.

"It's okay, Fran," I said quietly, wanting to reassure her. "I don't blame you. People forget things; it's in our nature. Although…" I glanced at the bathroom door, "…he kinda does deserve an apology. Not just for this, but also for your earlier behavior." Fran looked guilty again. I sighed softly.

"I should go see how he is," I murmured, then slipped off the stool and walked over to the bathroom. I knocked three times on the wood, then waited for an answer. There was no sound from within. "Legolas?" I called out. I knocked a few more times. "Legolas, it's me. Open the door."

"I…I can't," he replied, his voice muffled by the wood standing between us. Though not muffled enough for me to tell that it was shaking. I couldn't tell if it was because of fear or arousal, but I was leaning towards the latter.

"Legolas, it's alright," I said consolingly. "There's…there's nothing to be ashamed of." The only thing I could hear was his soft breathing within the tiled bathroom. I waited patiently outside the door. I recalled the time my father found an injured kitten outside out house and brought it in to heal. It had been wary of me at first and skirted me whenever I came near. Soon my father told me to not approach it, but to wait for it to come to me. The next time I saw the kitten, I simply sat down and watched as it inched closer and closer to me, curiosity leading it. It then allowed me to touch it, and its trust of me was built.

This was just like it. Wait for him to come to you, not the other way around, I told myself. And so I waited. And waited.

After almost forty-five minutes of waiting, the doorknob began to twist. I pushed away from the wall I had been leaning against, watching as the door opened slowly, inch by inch. Soon the open space was only eight inches apart, and Legolas' head appeared in the opening. His eyes were wide and his cheeks flushed.

When he saw me standing on the other side of the hall, he slowly opened the door all the way. He was a bit disheveled, his golden hair in disarray and his chest gleaming with a fine sheet of sweat. I pursed my lips and reached out to touch his arm. Even though he flinched, he didn't do it as violently as before and he allowed me to touch him in the end.

"It's alright," I said again, my voice soft. "Fran's sorry and she understands what she did to you." Legolas lowered his eyes. I almost expected him to blush, but that trait remained undiscovered. Hell, I was thankful; blushing seems to me a trait females should only have, and by the looks of Legolas' upper body, he was most definitely _not_ a womanish being.

"Come with me," I whispered, taking his hand. "Fran wants to apologize." He didn't say anything, only followed me as I led him down the hall and into the kitchen, where Fran was still sitting on her stool, her head cradled in her hands.

"Fran," I said, and she snapped her head up in surprise. She blushed when she saw Legolas standing behind me and avoided looking at him. I made a gesture at him with my hand, then stepped away. Fran tentatively got off her stool and stepped closer, her eyes resting anywhere but on him.

"Listen…I, um…I'm sorry…for what happened earlier," she stammered uncertainly. "I…I didn't mean to…embarrass you, or…anything like that. I…well…what I'm trying to say is…" She looked up at him at last and met his eyes. Apparently the complete understanding in them soothed her frazzled nerves, for she finished off with a whisper of, "I'm sorry."

"I don't hold you at fault," Legolas replied softly. "I realize that you meant nothing of ill will. I forgive you for your mistake." He gently took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She seemed utterly flattered at the motion, and she glanced at me, clearly at a loss for words. I stepped forward before she could make a fool of herself.

"Legolas, why don't I teach you about plumbing, like we had been meaning to do earlier in the day," I said, placing a hand on his arm and guiding him towards the hall. He nodded and moved away after briefly inclining his head politely towards Fran. She only nodded curtly in his direction. Before I went after him, she grabbed my arm and murmured in my ear, "I think I'm going to like having him here!" before letting me go again.

I could only smile and think: _well, duh you would!_

_------------------_

Well, hope you liked it! Reviews please! -shoulders backpack- Off to school with me. See ya!_  
_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: 'Nother update! 'Kay, this one won't be as long, I'm sorry. I was kinda in a rush to finish it before I had to go to bed, and I really didn't know how to put more thoughts in without making it a very HUGE chapter. So, this is what you get for now, and I'll give you the rest later.

And thank you SO MUCH for the reviews! You guys flatter me so much! huggles

------------------------

Question Corner

Okay, a few of you had a couple questions, so I'm going to answer them as best as I can here.

**NataNly: **I can't believe you caught that romance thing! Most people don't even look at that part! And yes, you're right, something could happen like that...eventually. It'll take a while, however. I have to organize everything first. And no, I did not invent that "touching-ears-gets-elves-aroused" thing. That was one of the traits of elves Tolkien wrote about. I learned it somewhere else. Thanx for the review! I'm really glad you're interested enough to ask me questions.

That's it for the questions! If there's any more just ask! -grin-

-----------------------

Disclaimer: -takes deep breath- I-don't-own-Legolas-or-anything-related-to-him-or-the-Lord-of-the-Rings-so-all-you-lawyers-can-lay-off-so-I-can-tell-my-god-damn-story!

-gasps for breath- Okay, now that that's done, one with the story!

-----------------------

ch.4

Legolas' long fingers curled around the warm mug of tea I offered him. He nodded his head in my direction and said, "_Hannon le_," before taking a careful swig of the contents. I looked to Fran, who instantly translated, "He said thank you." I nodded as I sat down, finally realizing what he had been saying all this time. I had a cup of coffee cradled in my hand, and I sipped a bit of it as I leaned back in the large armchair.

Fran was sitting on the couch next to Legolas, who had his legs folded beneath him and was leaning against a pillow propped against the tall arm of the sofa. We were all silent, the only sound the chords of some random Celtic songs I'd just discovered I had today.

After I had taught Legolas about the plumbing, he had sifted through some of the CDs I owned, sometimes asking for me to play it so he could see what it was like. Fortunately, his ears didn't have to be beaten to death with awful rap (sorry for you people who like rap out there), as I had bands like Green Day, Good Charlotte, and some other alternative music, but I also had Kansas and Billy Joel. But Legolas had seemed attracted to the Celtic CD I didn't even know we had. Apparently the sound of it reminded him of his home and the music his native people created. When he first heard it, he had such a forlorn look on his face that I had to snap him out of it before the expression made me cry.

It was calming music, but we were all feeling anything but calm at the moment. We all knew why we were gathered in the living room: we were going to try and find out how Legolas had gotten here. The problem was, we didn't know how to start.

"Well," Fran said, shattering the silence that had chosen to reside within the room, "we should be talking, brainstorming, not sitting here listening to Irish music."

"_Celtic_," Legolas and I said at the same time. We glanced at each other and then looked away, small smiles on our faces. Fran raised an eyebrow as she looked back and forth between the two of us.

"Whatever," she replied. "The point is, we have to figure out what he's doing here." She gestured to Legolas, who looked down at his mug and began spinning it through his fingers. I exhaled loudly through my nostrils and leaned forward.

"Legolas, do you remember anything before…" I struggled to find the right way to phrase my thoughts, "…before you appeared here?" Legolas looked up at me, then let his eyes wander freely while he tried to backtrack his mind and recall. He bit his lip uncertainly.

"I remember that I was traveling…" he murmured, his brow furrowing in deep concentration. "I don't recall why or where I was going, but I know a storm hit when I was in the mountains….I was looking for shelter, and I found a deep cave. I remember thinking about going inside…but…anything else after that I do not remember." He looked honestly perplexed, and he stared down at his tea again, swirling the cup a few times distractedly. I heard the liquid slosh around the insides of the mug. "I'm not sure why I'm having such a memory lapse," he said suddenly, sounding confused and slightly frustrated at the same time. "Elves are normally able to remember even their first step or word, even if it is not in vivid detail. This is unusual that I should not remember."

I looked to Fran for conformation, and she nodded and said, "Elves have incredible memories, or at least, that was what Tolkien said. They were able to remember them as if it was the day before." Legolas was nodding even as she spoke, a deep frown on his face. I could almost hear the sounds of his brain whirring through memories and struggling to think of what could have happened earlier that day.

Wait, _earlier that day?_

Legolas had been here only a day and it seemed like forever. Amazing how times flies when you're dealing with what was supposed to be a fictional character being zapped through the space time continuum to modern day, huh?

"So…you can't remember the details of your trip?" I asked. "Not even the slightest bit of information?" Legolas looked truly lost, and he shook his head slowly, his eyes trained on the floor.

"Well, do you…do you think it was some sort of…" I rotated my hands in small circles, hoping to come up with the correct word, "…portal that Tolkien created in his world? Something Legolas could have fallen into?" Fran bit the inside of her cheek as she sifted through his tales.

"There's nothing that I can recall," she said slowly. "I…I guess I can look it up, though. There's no harm in at least trying." I nodded.

"Look stuff up on the internet," I suggested. "Maybe you'll…Legolas? What's wrong?" The elf had been growing increasingly agitated as Fran and I spoke, and he eventually lifted himself from his spot on the couch, his mug slamming onto the table. He began pacing the living room, his hands to his head, a deeply concentrated look upon his face. Fran and I watched him with growing concern.

"Legolas?"

"I…I almost have something," he muttered distractedly, and he suddenly stopped his frenzied pacing and stood still. Tremors shook his lithe frame, growing deeper with every second, and then…they stopped. He was utterly still, and I could have sworn he was just a statue. But then, his eyes snapped open and his head jerked up, and he loosed a ragged cry of what seemed to be pain. He stumbled backwards as if struck and hit the wall, where he slid down to the floor. Fran and I immediately leaped up and rushed to his side, me bounding over the back of the couch.

"Legolas," I said, taking his shoulder and giving it a small shake. His eyes fluttered open and he glanced at me and Fran hovering over him before groaning and shutting his eyes again. "Legolas, what happened?" I asked anxiously.

"I…I was trying to relocate the memory," he replied, his voice slightly muffled and tense. "It was working, and I…could almost see it, but then I saw a flashing light behind my eyelids…there was a spike of pain in my mind…something—something blocked me." I looked to Fran. She seemed to be just as confused as I was. Good thing I wasn't alone.

"What do you think happened?" I asked softly. Fran looked at me and shook her head, seeming frightened and deeply perplexed at the same time.

"My head…" Legolas moaned, holding it between his hands. I plucked at his sleeve, bringing him to his feet.

"I'll get you some medicine for it," I said, then turned to Fran. "You go to the computer and see if you can find all you can about portals or something in Tolkien's books." She nodded and went down the hallway as I took Legolas into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, blinking as I flicked the overhead lights on. It seemed too bright for him, so I switched them back off and settled for the small light over the stove. I opened a cabinet and took out a bottle of Advil. I set two pills on the counter and grabbed him a glass of water.

When I turned back around, Legolas was holding the pills in his hand and surveying them cautiously. I handed him the water.

"You just swallow them," I instructed. "Don't chew. They'll help with your headache." He nodded. I expected a question of curiosity or something, after all, he'd been curious all day, but apparently he had too much of a migraine to care what the pills were made out of or how they worked. He threw them to the back of his throat and took a swig of water, seeming to have no trouble in getting them down. I was minimally shocked; surely there were no pills where he was from?

"How was that easy for you?" I asked, taking the glass he handed back to me. He smiled. For some reason, he looked more mysterious in the dark than in the light. The way the light behind him outlined his form gave him a shady effect, and his eyes almost seemed to glow. I was a bit busy contemplating this, so I almost missed the reply to his question.

"I used to come home injured all the time," he said. "I would have to swallow roots or leaves around that size without chewing them. Somehow the saliva would dull their healing abilities."

"Oh," I said. I watched as he leaned against the counter again, rubbing his face tiredly. "Would you like to go to sleep?" I asked him. When he nodded, I said, "You could take my bed."

"Nay," he replied, his voice already thick. "I would not take what is yours. I could sleep on the couch in the sitting room."

"I insist," I said, taking his arm. "You're the guest." He laughed at this. Then, I thought, was this the first time I heard him laugh? It was. It was so warm and joyful, it just made me want to smile in response.

"Not of my own free will," he joked. "Honestly, Kyla, I will be perfectly comfortable on the couch." He disengaged his arm from my grip. I bit my lip and shifted on my feet.

"Could…could I at least get you a blanket?" I asked, a bit timidly. Legolas smiled at me as he sat down on the couch.

"That would be nice," he said. I nodded and went into the hallway. As I went to the linen closet, I passed the computer room, where Fran was rapidly typing away, a concentrated look on her face. I entered and stepped over all the junk on the floor to bend over and read over her shoulder. She had Google up and was looking up all of Tolkien's books. She also had a bunch of "Lord of the Rings" sites up, obviously looking through them for information.

"Anything yet?" I asked. She sighed and clicked on a few links, at the same time shaking her head in disappointment.

"Nothing so far," she replied. "But the search has only just begun. I can do this all night." I patted her shoulder.

"Don't," I said. "I'd rather you get some sleep, at least. You have to go to work tomorrow." She shrugged her left shoulder carelessly, her eyes glued to the screen. She probably hadn't heard one work of my last statement. I shook my head and left the room, making a quick stop at the linen closet to take out some blankets. I went down the hallway and into the living room, where Legolas was stretched out on the couch, one arm flung over the edge of the sofa while the other rested lightly on his stomach. He seemed to already be asleep. I gently laid the blankets over him, then glanced at his face. His eyes were closed.

I cocked my head curiously. Didn't Fran say that elves slept with their eyes open? Hmm….I'd have to ask Legolas about it tomorrow. For tonight, I would let him sleep. He looked so innocent sleeping, I had to admit. There were no lines of worry or anxiety written in his face, and he didn't look so careworn. I reached out and gingerly touched his cheek with my fingertips. I don't know what made me do it; I just did. He didn't stir at all at my touch. I gazed at him one moment longer before withdrawing my hand and stepping away. I flicked the lights off before I went to my own room.

As I lay down in bed, I faintly heard Fran clacking away on the keyboard and hoped she might find some clue as to why we had a lost elven warrior staying in our house.

-----------------------

Sorry that was so short. 'Twill be better next time, I promise! Good ideas for next time. -taps head- It's all up here. Again, thank you **ALL SO MUCH **for the reviews; they really make my day! I'll be lookin' fer more! Ta!**  
**


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Woo! Another update! And...a shout out to all my WONDERFUL reviewers! This story would be nothin' without you guys!

**stechpalme **(thanx! -huggles-), **wytchkat** (thank you! luv the penname, btw, don't know why, sounds kool :oD), **NataNly** (yer welcome for clearing it all up! and yes, i did notice that you ended everything with an exclamation point! i luv the enthusiasm!), **Andeldaiel **(thank you! i'm glad you like it! -huggles-), **sugarontop1 **(hee...i know, he's just the sweetest guy eva! thanx for the review!), **Quietrockchick** (thank you:oD yes, his symptoms are rather suspicious...hopefully it will all be sorted out...), **Mirfien **(thanx so much for the compliment! you get a cookie for being so nice. -hugs-), **Black Lace101** (OMG! you gave me the largest review out of everyone! thank you! that really made my day! i'm really glad you like it! -huggles-), **Andraya TheLat **(i updated as soon as i could! thanx for the review!), **Crecy** (hmm...have a hunch, do ya? hehe...it shall all be explained. thanx for the wonderful review!), **SAGA123 **(BOOYEAH! lol. you have a thing for caps, don't ya? ;D your reviews are the most enthusiastic of all the ones i recieve! thank you! -huggles-), **MusicalCharlaten** (whoa! i updated, i updated, don't kill me! lol. thanx for the review! i hope you get your thoughts in order. ;D).

Thanx again guys! I luv you all! xoxoxox

------------------------

Disclaimer: I can only say what I need to say without the witty comment because my dad wants me to go to bed and he's giving me the evil eye. Legolas isn't mine.

-----------------------

ch.5

At around five in the morning, I involuntarily woke up. It wasn't one of those omigosh-something's-wrong moments, I was just turning over when my mind came to partial awareness. Usually I would have rolled over and went back to sleep, but in the small time it would take for me to do that, I instantly thought of Legolas and if he was all right or not. I convinced myself that he should be fine and I closed my eyes to go back to sleep again, but my mind was slowly waking and urging me to go check on him. Eventually, with a tired sigh, I consented to what my brain kept telling me to do and I stumbled out of bed and into the hall, my footfalls soft on the white carpet.

When I emerged from the hallway, my eyes fell to the couch, which I saw was empty, the blanket Legolas had used neatly folded and resting on one of the cushions. My eyes swept the room to find him standing motionlessly by the wide living room window, staring at the lightening sky. I kept as quiet as I could as I made my way across the room, not wanting to startle him. When I was halfway there, he spoke.

"I had a dream last night."

I froze, blinking. How could he hear me? I couldn't even hear _myself_. Throwing the confusion aside and focusing on what he'd said, I dropped the stealthy act and went to his side. Once there, he didn't turn to face me, simply kept staring out the window. I followed his gaze and ignored the other buildings, streets and electrical lights, focusing on the horizon that was steadily growing lighter as the sun rose.

"What about?" I asked softly. It took a little while for him to answer. I waited patiently, not wanting to push him. I concentrated on the sound of our breathing, the sight of the day creeping slowly over the horizon, the feel of the temperature rising in the room as the sun's rays wormed their way through the window and warmed the air. Finally, I heard Legolas inhale deeply, then let it out slowly, his answer flowing out with his breath, adding a wistful, longing tone to his voice.

"My home."

I felt a pang in my heart and nearly winced visibly. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was still staring out the window, his sapphire eyes betraying the sorrow he felt. I inconspicuously inched closer to him.

"What did you see in it?" I whispered to him. He shifted slightly and leaned his hands against the windowsill. His gaze dropped from the rising sun to the white paint below his fingers; then his eyes closed entirely.

"I saw…the forests. The trees swaying in the wind and the streams running below their branches. I heard their whispers on the wind, I could hear them calling me. I saw herds of deer grazing in small valleys, does nursing their fawns while bucks kept watch over their families." He paused a bit, and a sharp tremble ran through his lithe frame. I waited for what he would say next. "I saw my people, walking down the forest paths, enjoying each others' company and laughing among the trees. I saw elflings playing with one another in a garden, their mothers seated on stone benches, smiling and speaking friendly with one another." Here he opened his eyes and returned his gaze to the sky. He spoke next with pride. "I saw their fathers taking part in patrols to rid the woods of evil creatures to keep their families safe." His voice lowered to an almost inaudible whisper. "I saw…my mother, smiling and welcoming me back to the place I belong. I saw my elder sister laughing and coming to embrace me. I saw the love in their eyes." He paused again, breathing slowly. He next had to speak quiet enough so his voice wouldn't break.

"But I'm not so sure I'll ever see it again."

He turned away from the window and left the small square of light the sun created through the window, returning to the darkened living room. I stared at where he had been standing before, my mind whirling with the description of his dream…the description of what he believed to be lost to him. I had so much pity welling inside me, I wanted to weep. I turned my back to the window and followed him into the shadows. When my eyes adjusted, I saw him sitting on the couch, hunched over, his head cradled in his hands. I slowly sat down next to him, hoping he could find consolation in merely my presence. I really didn't know what to say to make him feel better. I couldn't throw him false hopes; no one appreciates those. So I simply sat silently next to him, him silently next to me, out thoughts whirring and our hearts heavy as stones.

At last, he raised his head and stared at the wall through his fingers. Then he dropped his hands. "Elves are normally able to control their dreams," he murmured softly. "Though there are instances when our emotions take over and show us what we truly feel in our hearts. I did not recognize the longing I held in my heart until I saw my dream. I had been feeling that hollow sorrow ever since I overcame the shock of my arrival, but I never confronted it until after I woke. It is also the reason why I had been slumbering with my eyes closed."

Understanding dawned on me, but I still kept my silence. This was not my turn to express things, it was his, and I would make sure to listen. When he glanced up at me, my eyes softened and gently urged him to continue. He swallowed tightly and glistening tears rose in his deep blue eyes.

"Will I ever be able to return to my home?" he whispered, but even the low volume of his voice was not able to hide the wavering crack of anguish. I bit my lip and took his hand. I turned it over in mine and drew meaningless symbols on his palm with my fingernail, wondering what to say to reassure him. As I thought, he stared at what I was doing with his hand, seeming to be lost in thought himself. The tears hadn't left his eyes yet, and I chewed my lip further, wanting to dry them, but not knowing how. Finally I just let out a breath and decided to say what my heart was telling me.

"Honestly…I'm not sure if you ever will see your home or not," I whispered. Legolas raised his eyes to mine, and one pearly tear escaped his eyes and slid down his cheek. I raised my hand and brushed it away with one swipe of my finger. "But I can promise you this.…" I inched closer to him and gripped his hand tightly within both of mine. "I promise, I will do everything I can to return you to where you belong. Everything within my power, little as it is." Despite the fact that I was trying to comfort him, Legolas caught the self-scorn in my voice. And, despite the fact that _he_ needed comforting, he tried to comfort me, the sweetie.

"You have so much power, Kyla," he murmured, and he seemed so sure of what he was saying. I felt my eyebrows lower in disbelief, and, through his tears, he smiled. He then raised his free hand and placed it over my heart. "Everyone has incredible power hidden within them. The problem is finding it. Some people believe that they're weak because they cannot find their own power. But it's there, whether you know it yet or not."

"I…but…I've never…" I stammered, uncertain. Doubt clouded my heart and I found that I truly didn't believe his words. There were so many things I cowered from. I hid from my family in shame of what had happened to my brother, and…I guess I shied from the idea of getting a job, possibly because I was afraid of committing myself in the real world. So many things…how could he say I had power?

"The time will come," he whispered to me, and his hand fell from its place on my chest. I wondered vaguely what he meant, but decided not to ask. Instead I averted my eyes and stared down at our joined hands. I was alerted by Legolas' voice as he next spoke.

"I really believe that you can somehow find a way to help me. _Hannon le_, Kyla," he murmured. "You have been so kind to me, and I don't know how I'll ever repay you." I looked back up at him and saw the small smile on his face, and I smiled in response.

"I…It's nothing," I muttered, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden. Legolas only smiled wider than before.

"Liar," he said, mildly joking.

* * *

About three hours later, Legolas and I were sitting in the kitchen, a plate of eggs in front of both of us. I hadn't made eggs in such a long time, it took me a little while to remember and get the facts straight (this is years I'm talking about here; all I've been eating was microwavable crap every morning). The end result wasn't too bad, in my opinion. At least Legolas hadn't grimaced in disgust and shoved the plate away when I set it in front of him. But he might have been too hungry to care. This was the first time he'd eaten since he had arrived, poor thing. I silently scolded myself. Living beings need to _eat_, dolt! Just because a fictional character just happens to pop into your house with no reason whatsoever doesn't mean you should forget your common courtesy! Jeez. 

We were both silent as we ate, me reading a magazine (the subscription was Fran's) distractedly. I lowered the magazine when Legolas asked,

"Who's he?"

I turned the subscription over and looked at the cover. Surprise, surprise, 'twas Orlando Bloom's darling face smiling out at me. I studied the actor's face a moment or two before answering Legolas' question. Really, the two of them looked nothing alike. Sure, Legolas had blond hair and blue eyes, like his movie impersonation, but Orlando had high, defined cheekbones, whereas Legolas' face was slightly softer and thinner. The two had a similar build, but Orlando was thicker where Legolas was slender. And, call it a hunch, but I think Legolas was a mite taller than our good ol' Mr. Bloom.

"That's Orlando Bloom," I replied flatly, turning back to the page I was reading.

"Why is he important?" Legolas asked curiously. I pursed my lips and set the magazine down. The elf sitting across from me watched me patiently, his sapphire eyes glittering with interest.

"Well," I stated, real smart-like, "he's a very good actor and a lot of people like him." No comprehension came to Legolas' face. Apparently, he was looking for more of an explanation. I exhaled deeply and folded my fingers on the tabletop.

"There are a lot of people in this world," I said slowly. "Basically, if you're able to act in a movie—"

"The moving tales you showed me yesterday?" Legolas cut in. "The ones created for entertainment?" I nodded, not minding the minor interruption.

"Yes," I replied. "If you're able to play a character in one and get your name posted somewhere, people will most likely start to like you. Really, they turn you into what's considered a god: everyone knows your name but hardly anybody is allowed to touch you. Like Orlando Bloom," I said, standing the magazine up so his picture was facing outwards. "His face is in magazines, on TV, in movies, and on the internet. Billions of people know his name, and they all want to meet him. But he's only one person against nearly the entire world. What's more, he's just a regular person that has his own interests, hobbies, and desires. If he had never become an actor, he'd just be a regular guy walking through the streets, even if he is incredibly handsome." (Boy, is he! I can feel a swoon coming on!)

"So they're like kings?" Legolas asked, gesturing with his fork. "Everyone knows a king's name in his kingdom."

"You could say they're like kings," I replied, tilting my head side to side as I lay the magazine flat again. "They do have the power to alter people's opinions sometimes. Like if they take part in an ad of some sort, everybody will want to be like them, so they'll start buying that product. But really, by law, they can't order countries around and expect their commands to be taken out."

Legolas stabbed his fork into another slice of egg. "Your world is awfully complicated," he grumbled. I smiled grimly.

"Tell me about it."

We both looked up as Fran marched into the room, her face stormy. She carried with her a thick sheaf of papers, as well as two books tucked under her arms. She stomped straight up to the table and slapped the papers down in front of me, startling me and causing my hair to blow back with the wind she created. She then slammed the books down with possibly even more force than before.

"I've looked _everywhere_!" she exclaimed in utter frustration, throwing her hands into the air. She poked the neatly printed papers as she spoke, "I have gone to every Tolkien site known to man, monkey, _and_ fish! I have typed so many words in that stupid Google bar, my fingers are about to crack! I have clicked on so many links, I bet you all the money in Oprah's pocket that everything related to the term "Lord of the Rings" or any of Tolkien's books are all highlighted!"

"Fran…" I warned, noticing the look of slowly growing hopelessness emerging on Legolas' face. He was frozen, staring at my roommate with wide eyes, his fork poised halfway between his plate and his mouth.

"No," she snapped, "I've tried everything, Kyla. There is nothing—I mean _nothing_—that indicates a portal, a time machine, any way of transportation between one world and another! Now what, Kyla? Where should we look? For all I know, Legolas is stuck here for the rest of his immortal life!"

That was _completely_ the wrong thing to say. If they ever made a book of "Stupid Blunders in Speech" or "Totally the Wrong Times to Say Things", that last sentence she blurted would have topped both lists.

The kitchen went deadly silent. The last ring of Fran's voice faded away, leaving no sound except for the distant bawling of a child downstairs. Then, a loud clatter drew our attention to Legolas. He had dropped his fork and was pushing away from the table, causing the chair legs to screech on the linoleum floor. All signs of frustration and anger drained away from Fran's face as she realized what she'd just said.

"Shit, Legolas, I didn't mean—" she started, reaching out at him, but he evaded her touch and left the kitchen silently, his face completely emotionless, but his eyes beginning to glisten with unshed tears. I stood up and began to follow him, at the same time throwing Fran and heated glare and muttering,

"Way to go, Fran."

She stared at me, open mouthed, as I ran down the hall after Legolas. I grabbed his shoulder to slow him down and stepped in front of him. He halted, but he bowed his head and kept his face turned away from me.

"Legolas…" I murmured, unsure of what to say. How could I alleviate fears when they'd just been more pronounced than before?

"Please," he whispered, "don't. I'd rather not talk right now, Kyla." I didn't stop him when he pushed past me and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I stared at the door for a few seconds, wanting to knock and ask him to come out, but I knew it was useless. I reluctantly turned away and slowly made my way back down the hall and into the kitchen, where Fran was still standing in the same place I had left her, an immensely guilty look on her face. She looked up at me when I came into the room.

"Where is he?" she asked softly, her voice slightly wavering. I sighed and sat down on one of the kitchen stools, resting my forehead in my hand.

"He locked himself in the bathroom," I muttered. "He said he didn't want to talk."

"God, I'm such an ass," Fran said, plopping down into a chair, folding her arms and resting her head on her forearms. "I shouldn't have said that," she mumbled to the table. "What was I thinking?"

"He might not have reacted so strongly if you had said that yesterday," I said. "He'd just realized how much he missed his home last night, and then you come stomping in declaring that the situation is hopeless. Man, this is turning out to be really tough." I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, watching as small bursts of color exploded behind my lids at the pressure.

Fran gave a mirthless chuckle from her spot at the table. "Yeah," she agreed. "It's like that puppy you've finally gotten after begging your mom for it forever, and then realizing how much responsibility is involved if you want to keep it thriving." It was a rough analogy, but it was one I could relate to, at least.

"That about sums it up," I said. "Fran, you can go to work. I'll be here if—_when_—Legolas wants to come out and talk." She nodded and slowly stood up, as if she didn't want to leave. She left the room and gathered her things. I could hear her bustling quietly about in the living room. Right after I heard the jingle of keys, she appeared around the corner of the kitchen.

"Tell him I'm sorry and that I didn't mean it," she whispered, her large hazel eyes concerned and anxious at the same time. I nodded and made a shooing gesture with my hand.

"Will do," I replied. "Go on, Fran. I'll look out for him." She nodded and disappeared again, and I could hear the front door open and slam closed. Utter silence remained in the apartment. I wondered vaguely what Legolas might be doing in the bathroom. Was he thinking about his family, his friends? Was he thinking about the love and laughter he must have shared with them, and then realizing that those things could have been snatched from his grasp forever?

Shuddering, I drew my arms around myself and prepared to sit and wait for as long as I needed to.

---------------------

Aww...so sad, so sad...hey, people, it's only the second day he's been in the 21rst century, for those of you who think he's too timid. Give the guy a break and let him adjust...besides, I've got some good ideas and his true character will begin to show...-evil snicker-

Reviews, please! I luv you all! -mwah!- 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Oh, God, I am SO sorry for the delay. So far I'd managed to update every other day or something, but that sort of fell apart over the week. Sorry to those who'd been waiting impatiently. Some stuff'd come up. My two closest friends (close enough to call them my siblings) got in a fight, and I was in the middle. Doesn't that suck? Anyway, I'd hardly had any time to work on any of my stories, but I somehow managed to get it done tonight. So I hope you like it, and sorry it's so short!

-----------------

Disclaimer: It's not mine, and I don't have enough heart to come up with a witty comment telling you that Legolas doesn't belong to me.

-----------------

ch.6

Legolas was in there for a long time. I mean, **looooooonnggg **time as in _hours_. I waited for him to come out for nearly forty-five minutes, wondering, for the millionth time, what he was thinking about. I sat at the kitchen counter, tapping my long fingernail in the rhythm from "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" by Green Day. I watched the second hand make its journey around the circle of the clock, then begin again at twelve, marching away the seconds that spanned into minutes that stretched into hours. After an hour and a half of waiting, I let my head slump on my crossed arms in hopes of regaining some of the three hours of sleep I missed last night. (Hey, I needed my sleep.)

I didn't get much. When I next woke up, it was only eleven. Legolas had been in that bathroom for three hours. I stood groggily from my stool, stretched, then made my way down the hall. I rapped on the door when I got there. No response.

"Legolas?" I called, then knocked again. Still nothing. He clearly needed more time. Don't push him, I reminded myself. Sighing, I turned away from the bathroom and went into the living room, where I kicked back on the couch, doing anything that would entertain me. I watched TV for a few minutes, but there really is nothing on in the middle of the day. I checked by a couple detective real life shows, not the drama kind, because the real life ones are usually more interesting. That kept me occupied for about three minutes and twenty-four seconds. My mind really wasn't in the show. I tried a couple other channels, but there was nothing there, either, so I picked up a magazine and tried one of those quizzes they had in one of the sections. But I couldn't concentrate on the questions.

To make a long story short (too late), I ended up sprawled on the couch, blowing a small white feather I had pulled from one of the pillows into the air. It was pretty entertaining, really. Once you get the hang of it, you can alter the way your breath moves so the feather could even breakdance in midair. But I'm not going to get into that, because I'm sure you're wondering when Legolas comes out of the bathroom.

He came out at precisely one seventeen. I know. I checked. I was in the middle of trying to get my feather to flip when I saw Legolas standing in the doorway, watching me. I almost literally jumped out of my seat. I hadn't heard him come in at all. It was then I checked the clock, and realized that nearly six hours had gone by. Jeez. Time flies when you're having fun, right?

I forgot all about the feather and sat up, meeting his eyes. He looked like he had a lot on his mind. I softly patted the spot on the couch next to me. "Want to talk?" I asked. He nodded slowly and came to sit beside me, then rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor in a position I never would have suspected from him. I waited patiently as he gathered his thoughts.

"I…I did a lot of thinking today," he finally said hesitantly, still not looking at me, but at the rug. Legolas paused for a moment. "A lot of remembering." That was what I was afraid of.

"What were you thinking of?" I asked quietly. Again the elf paused, sorting thoughts, memories, opinions all out in his mind.

"I was thinking about my home and what Fran said this morning," he replied. "I was thinking about my family and the things I'd lost when I came here. At first I was filled with regret and sorrow, for I wondered how my mother and sister were going to deal with my sudden disappearance." He halted his talking and took a deep breath, which he expelled from his lungs in a heaving sigh. "But then I realized that it could not be all that bad." Here he looked up at me as I cocked my head.

"How so?" I asked. Really, I was curious. How could it not be bad? He was away from his home with possibly no way of getting back, missing his family, and planted right in the middle of a world he knew nothing of. What's good about that?

"I've met you," he supplied. I couldn't help but blink in complete surprise at that statement. What? My mind laughed hysterically, spurting out that no one could be grateful for the things I do. No one could even be grateful for my existence. But, then again, I was rather critical of myself back then.

"Me?" I asked incredulously. "I'm what makes this all better?" Legolas nodded, a smile gracing his face.

"I would be off ten times worse if I hadn't run into you," he said, then shook his head slowly. "Oh, Kyla, you degrade yourself too much. Don't you see how much you are worth? You're empathetic, caring, kind…I don't even want to try and list all of your good qualities; there are too many." Ooh, he had me good. I could feel myself blushing at what he was saying. No one had ever spoke to me like that, called me wonderful things…listed my endearing traits, which I'd been certain I didn't have at all. It took me a moment to exit my dazed mind and realize that Legolas was speaking again.

"I realized…that it couldn't be too bad being here," he went on, "because I have all these things to explore and you as my guide. And I'm glad you're my guide. You make a wonderful friend." Okay, here's when the flutes start trilling, the butterflies flutter, and something inflates my heart. Who knew that being called all of these things by a truly sweet guy could set you on fire? I mean, I felt good. _Really_ good when he said those things about me. Watch out Superman, here comes Kyla!

I didn't snap out of my daze until the phone began ringing. Legolas and I jerked out of our little bubble and looked towards the kitchen, where an annoyingly high-pitched tone was screaming. I sighed and got up off of the couch, Legolas following me, and I picked up the corded phone and pressed it to my ear.

"Yes'm?" I muttered. I really didn't appreciate being interrupted, I had been being complemented, for goodness sakes! And by a guy who suddenly looked very handsome!

"Hi Kyla is he okay did he come out of the bathroom yet if he did can I talk to him?" Fran rambled off on the other side of the phone. I blinked, and it took a moment to translate her mile-a-minute speech.

"Uh…hi. Yeah, he's fine, and he did come out of the bathroom," I replied.

"Well can I talk to him?" Fran asked abruptly. I backed the phone away from my ear. She'd been practically screeching in urgency.

"Yes, yes, he's right here," I said, trying to calm her down. I handed the phone over to Legolas, who took it carefully. He'd only learned a minimum about phones, and this was clearly a very new experience for him.

"…Hello?" he said hesitantly, and I almost laughed as his eyes widened when Fran began immediately babbling into his ear. He tried to follow what she was saying, but was obviously having trouble with it.

"Yes," he said, "yes, I'm fine. I—I know you didn't mean it Fran. It's alright. Yes, I'm sure. It's alright. No, I don't hate you." The comments went on like that for a little while. He said basically three things the entire time: Yes, he was absolutely fine; he knew she meant nothing by what she'd said this morning; and he didn't hate her guts. Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of this, he said his farewell and handed the phone back to me so I could assure Fran that I would take care of him and hang it up.

When I turned back around, Legolas was leaning against the counter, his arms folded. I mimicked his position and gazed at him from across the kitchen. "So…you're sure you're going to be alright?" I asked softly. He didn't respond for a few moments, long enough for me to wonder if he even heard me. At last he languidly shifted his posture and his sapphire eyes swirled up to me.

"I'm sure the pain has dulled somewhat," he replied a bit evasively. "Though…I cannot help but miss my family, as anyone would in this kind of situation." I swallowed, then scratched my forehead.

"I understand," I murmured, glancing at the floor, then back up at him. "Would…you like to…talk to me about it? Tell me of your home, your family, your friends?" Legolas hesitated, but then a wide grin spread across his face.

"That would be nice," he whispered.

That day had to be the longest I've ever listened to anything or anyone. It might be ADD that makes me zone out when people are talking, or it could just be an auditory problem. But for the whole four hours that Legolas talked to me, I caught every single word he said. Nearly everything he told me was utterly fascinating or entertaining. I had never read the pages on the internet about elves, and it was interesting to learn their customs and about the personal life of one of them.

Legolas started with facts about his family: he told me of his father's strict rules and regulations he held uptight for his children, and the fact that his mother was the only one who could sway him into lenience. He told me of his elder sister's over-protectiveness of him and her mild teasings. He told me of a collection of friends he considered close and the mischief they had gotten into when they were younger. And, apparently, his sister had been part of their schemes on more than one occasion. Every word he uttered was filled with deep affection and warm reminiscence.

We stayed in the kitchen for the remainder of the day, swapping stories of our childhood and our rebellious wills. Can you believe that when Legolas was confined to his room for the latest prank he had cast, he'd climbed out his window and run away into the forest, simply for the satisfaction of knowing that his will wouldn't be dominated? Amazing. My parents would have flayed me alive if I had done that.

And, to my great joy, Legolas actually _listened_ to _me_. It seemed that what I said really did captivate him, and that made me feel…I wouldn't say 'giddy', but I felt close to that. Sometimes I got the feeling that nobody cared for what I said when I talked, but I actually felt heard when I was talking to Legolas.

We spent what seemed like such a short time in the kitchen, simply sharing memories and enjoying each other's company. After our remembrance well went dry (which took some time), we went into the living room, where we sat on the couch and flipped through channels on the TV. Legolas would occasionally ask questions about some of the images we passed by, and I answered them all as best as I could. The inquiries of things mechanical and stuff I wasn't too good at.

At around four, the front door burst open and Fran rushed into the room, looking mightily disheveled and in disarray. She threw her things down and looked around the apartment, like a scanner. When she saw Legolas sitting on the couch beside me, I could have sworn I saw the words "Target Locked" flash across her eyes.

Fran instantly zipped straight past me and threw herself into Legolas' arms, who seemed surprised that a frazzled woman was now clinging tightly to the front of his shirt. Not only that, he threw me a glance that clearly stated he did not know exactly what to make of Fran's colossal grip.

"I'm **_so_** sorry!" Fran sobbed into his chest. "This is the second time I've messed up! I'm such an ass! Will you forgive me?" Legolas swallowed, glanced at me again, and tentatively patted Fran's shoulder.

"I'd forgiven you long before," he replied gently. "I hold you at fault for nothing." Fran's head shot up, nearly smacking him in the chin. Thank God for elven reflexes.

"Really?" she asked. "Thank you! I won't let you down!" Fran kissed his cheek, then released him and scurried into the hall, disappearing from our sight, and the sound of a door slamming closed echoed throughout the apartment. I looked over at Legolas, who was staring at the opening of the hall with a bemused expression.

"Frightened?" I asked jokingly with a laugh. Legolas smiled and shook his head.

"Merely…contemplative," he said.

"That's normal behavior for her," I explained. "If she thinks someone's pissed at her, she wants to talk to them face to face to figure the feud out. If she can't see that someone for a long period of time, she flips." Legolas nodded in understanding and said no more.

------------------

Again, sorry that it's so short; I'll try and make it longer next time. Thanx for reading! Reviews please!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This didn't take too long, did it? I hope not. I just had enough time before I was going to take a shower and go to the movies with my friends, who'd made up at last! Yay! Has anyone seen "Corpse Bride"? Did you think it was good?

Whatev. Getting off the point here. I hope you like this chapter!

HEY GUESS WHAT? I've actually inspired someone to write their own Legolas-travels-here story! I've never inspired someone before! -squee!- I really hope that works out for you, **MusicalCharlatan**! And everyone else, thank you SO much for the reviews! You're awesome!

(Did you know that a reviewer really has a friend named Kyla? Hm. I thought I made it up.)

------------------

Disclaimer: It's not mine! We ssswearsss it on the precioussss!

------------------

ch. 7

The next week passed by quickly. Basically, Fran skittered off to work, I woke up at eight (yes, I began getting up earlier! I actually kind of made a game out of it, seeing if I could wake up before Legolas. I always lost.), and Legolas began adjusting quite nicely to our world. We talked quite a lot, learning a bit more about each other, like our preferences of weather, our favored foods, and other small things that were really unimportant compared to real life but part of us nonetheless. We became more comfortable with each other, and before we even knew it, we were trading secrets. I told that elf things that I even kept from Fran, even though she was just about my best friend.

And while I spent more time around Legolas, I tried to solve the puzzle that was him. He was mysterious and unpredictable, and I sometimes found myself surprised by the way he acted or what little he revealed of himself every day. Sometime in the middle of the week, I woke with a start, a loud clap of thunder jolting me from my haze of sleep. I looked at the window, startled, so see another strike of lightning flare, followed by an impressive bang of thunder. It was raining so hard I was nearly afraid it would stab straight through the window.

I sat up and gather my blanket around me, placing my feet on the floor and wandering from my room. I could never sleep during storms like this; not only were they too loud, their ferocity frightened me. I exited the hall and jumped when another lightning flashed, the glow illuminating the entire room as if it were day. In the blinding light, I caught sight of a still silhouette standing by the wide living room window, watching the vicious fray. Wondering if the storm had woken Legolas too, I crept over to his side.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, just before another crash of thunder shook the windowpane. Legolas, without taking his eyes from the happenings going on outside, replied,

"Nay. I couldn't pass up the chance to watch this." I cocked my head curiously.

"You like watching thunderstorms?" I questioned. I didn't know how he liked them. They frightened even the marrow of my bones. They were mightily intimidating, with shocking lightning and rumbling thunder. It was simply too much chaos for my liking.

"I find them fascinating," he breathed, wonder clear in his voice. At the next clamor of lightning and thunder, Legolas' eyes followed every streak of light that cut across the sky, reveling in the forces of nature's fury, while I nearly jumped into his arms like Scooby did to Shaggy in the TV show.

"How could you like them?" I asked incredulously, drawing my blanket tighter around myself. "They're so…" I glanced out at the storm, then shuddered, not being able to find the correct word to define my fear. "I'm always afraid of being struck by lightning, or the house catching fire because of it, or a tree falling on the roof, or—"

"Calm yourself, Kyla," Legolas said, smiling at my ramblings. He gently took my hand in his own, and I found myself liking the feel of his warm fingers around mine. He pulled me slightly closer to him, briefly meeting my eyes, then looking out at the rain and wind. "Close your eyes," he instructed me softly, and I hesitantly did as I was told, still flinching when I glimpsed a bright flash outside my eyelids. I don't know how, but I felt vulnerable with my eyes closed, not knowing what the storm was doing or how much it intensified.

"Legolas…" I murmured quietly, my brow wrinkling.

"Hush," he whispered, and I could barely hear him over the sound of the rain pelting the glass window. I felt him brush his thumb gently over the wrinkle in my forehead, smoothing it out. "Relax and listen." He fell silent again, and another round of lightning and thunder rolled by, causing me to flinch. I listened to the hard rain closely, trying to figure out what he was asking of me.

"What am I supposed to be hearing?" I asked.

"The song," he responded laconically. "The rise and fall of the pitch of rain, the drumming of thunder, the clash of lightning…listen closely to it." I tried hard to do as he asked me, but all I could hear was the loud lashing of the storm raging beyond a simple pane of glass. I was tense and anxious about the next crash of lightning, wondering when it would come. When it did, I only tensed my muscles further. "What do you hear?" Legolas asked from beside me.

"Loudness," I replied instantly. "It's all just one big drone. I can't hear anything."

"No," he said, and I could feel his hands expertly kneading my shoulders in an effort to relax them. "Try again. There is a melody to the storm; you simply need to locate it." I tried again, focusing my ears on the sounds outside, putting all of my effort into the task. I listened to the rain, the lightning, the thunder…and after a moment or two, I heard it. I found a rhythm within the pitch of rain and every clash of lightning, through the rumble of thunder that followed. It sounded as one large and wondrous song, the melody speaking of enthusiasm and beauty.

With a smile, I opened my eyes to see Legolas studying me closely, a smile of his own flickering across his face. "You heard it," he stated, and I nodded, turning to look at the storm through the window. Suddenly, I didn't find it so intimidating, and though I tensed slightly at the next lightning flash, I didn't jump out of my skin. Legolas followed my gaze, and we remained silent as we watched the dance of rain and wind. We stayed there until the thunderstorm had abated, and I found myself enjoying every second of the power it emanated.

Small moments like that dotted nearly every day that went by, and I enjoyed my times with Legolas. Normally we sat on the couch, talking with one another, as we liked doing, but there were times when we would stay silent, and I realized that I liked those times, too. Legolas became interested in my book collection, and he selected "Eragon", for it told of a world much like his own. We would sit together on the couch, him reading his book while I flipped through a newspaper or magazine. I felt that I found out more about him in these kinds of silences. I'm not sure what it was, but I felt…connected to him, somehow.

He even helped me clean up our computer room after it had been trashed by his arrival. When I told him it wasn't necessary for him to help me, he insisted that he was the one who had caused the mess, therefore he would help clean it up. I appreciated it, for the job went much quicker with the two of us at it. Not only that, I realized just how much crap we had lying around. I actually found a few things I had lost in the rubble littering the floors, and was able to throw more out, things that we didn't need. And, again, it gave Legolas and I the time to learn more about each other.

I might be going on about this, but I found absolutely everything Legolas did fascinating. He had such grace and fluidity to his movements, it was totally obvious that he wasn't human. I sometimes felt like freaking Steve Irwin reporting a documentary, and I could almost hear his voice inside my head whenever I zoned out as I watched Legolas complete the simplest of tasks in the most interesting way. "Ain't 'e a beaut'?" my mind mocked me, and then I would snap out of it before Legolas could catch me staring at him.

* * *

"Don't you think he's getting sick of it?" Fran asked me the morning nearly a week after Legolas' arrival. I sighed and closed the magazine I was reading, finally consenting to listen to what my roommate had to say. She'd been bugging me ever since I woke about this matter. 

"I don't know," I retorted in frustration, waving my hand in an exasperated gesture. "Why don't you ask him?" Fran leaned again the counter, finishing her bagel.

"Why should I be the one to ask him?" she replied with a question of her own. "You're the one who spends just about every waking moment with him." I threw her a mild glare.

"I do not."

She rolled her eyes and pushed away from the counter. "Right." She went back to packing her lunch, taking leftovers from the fridge. Her back was to me the whole time, and her voice echoed around the kitchen when she said dramatically, "You two wake up, say little more than 'hello' to each other in the morning, then retreat to your separate corners of the apartment, never to speak or see each other's faces until dinner." She turned back to look at me with an incredulous expression. "I'm not stupid Kyla. I can see how close you two have gotten over the past week. He seems to trust you with his very life for some reason. You just get along so well."

I shifted a bit as she went back to the creation of her lunch. "Still," I blurted, "how do you know Legolas is getting sick of this apartment? How do you know whether he wants to go outside or not?" Fran sighed.

"Oy," she muttered, then turned again to stare me straight in the eyes, a buttery knife dangling from her fingers. "Listen to me closely, Kyla. I know everything there is to know about Middle-earth. I know everything there is to know about 'Lord of the Rings'. I know everything there is to know about the races, their customs, where they live, all that jazz." She counted the list off on her fingers, skillfully avoiding the knife she was still holding. "I know what a dwarf's favorite food is, fer cryin' out loud! But there is also the fact that I have studied elves inside out. I practically worship them. So believe me when I say I know what Legolas would prefer and what he generally enjoys."

I blinked a few times, my eyebrows raised, then blew the air from my mouth. "Okay," I said, making a continuing motion with my hand. "Fill me in. What would Legolas like?" Fran carefully placed the knife on the counter and sat down at the table across from me.

"Elves love nature," she said, getting straight to the point. "They reside always around and within nature. Legolas is from the land of Mirkwood. Basically, he's a wood-elf. Wood-elves take pleasure in being in nature of any kind, since they seem to cherish it more than any other type of elves, but they prefer to be somewhere with leaves over their heads and earth under their feet." She paused to scratch at a stain on the wooden tabletop. "If elves are kept inside for a long period of time, without any contact with nature, they begin to sicken. Not right away," she added hurriedly at my stricken expression, "but gradually. There's no changes in Legolas right now, but it will show if he stays here for too long."

"So…what would you have me do?" I asked her, trying not to think of Legolas becoming ill.

"Take him to a park or something," she said to me. "As long as there's trees and grass, he'll be just fine." I bit my lip uncertainly.

"But wouldn't he…stand out?" I asked hesitantly. "I mean, he's not that hard to miss." It was true, after all. As if his slender build and graceful movements didn't make him stand out enough, he was wearing a dark green tunic and brown leggings, with leather boots that reached the center of his shin. He would certainly stand out among a crowd with that attire, and the long blond hair and pointed ears didn't really help.

"Yeah, but…" Fran tapped the wood of the table in a hurried rhythm with her fingernails. "Well, I could lend him some of Mike's clothes, at least until I could buy him some that fit. If he wants to go out today, he'll have to deal with what Mike can give him."

"He's not picky. I'm sure he'd adjust," I said. "As long as we can get him out of this apartment. I don't want his body to fail him." Fran gave me a curious look, then nodded.

"I can grab a break at lunch, drive to Mike's, pick out some clothes, and come back here."

"All that? Are you sure you'll have enough time?"

"Hey, I'm the Time Sorceress, remember?" she asked me with a smile, and I had to return the gesture. I swear, the woman could pick up laundry at one end of the city, drive to the other to get pizza, and arrive at the apartment six minutes early.

I gave her a good-natured shove out of the kitchen. "Whatever you say, Miss 'Time Sorceress'. Now get going before your ass is late!" She laughed and went to gather her things, me following to the living room. Legolas was sitting peacefully on the couch, still reading the book he had chosen. He looked up when he heard me approach and laid the book face down to save his page, sending me a small smile.

"Hello, Kyla," he said to me, still wearing that charming smile.

"Hello, Legolas," I replied, grinning.

"Now you're off to crawl into opposite corners, just like I predicted, right?" Fran asked with a breathless laugh as she came hustling into the room, nearly four bags swinging from her shoulders.

"Yeah right, Fran," I said, rolling my eyes. She stuck her tongue out at me, then winked at Legolas, who smiled.

"_Namárïe_, Legolas," she said, waving her hand in an arc.

"_Garo arad vain_," he replied, nodding his head as I rolled my eyes again. Ever since Legolas had discovered that Fran was fluent in Elvish, they had taken every moment they could to speak it with each other, and it drove me crazy when I didn't know what they were saying.

Fran walked out the door, and I sat down next to Legolas on the couch. There was a moment of companionable silence, and then I finally said, "Legolas?"

"Hm?"

"Would…you possibly be interested in going outside?"

I swear, the room got ten shades brighter when he heard my words. An excited sparkle came to his eyes, and he gave a small smile. "I would very much be interested," he responded. "When would we be able to go?"

"Whoa, slow down," I laughed. "We can go after Fran stops by during her lunch break. She'd have clothes for you to wear."

"Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing now?" he asked innocently, making me smile.

"No, but there are large differences in what you're wearing…" I motioned to his tunic and breeches, "…and what I'm wearing." I gestured to my loose T-shirt and jeans. "We need to get you to fit in as much as possible." He nodded in understanding, but he was beginning to look apprehensive about venturing outside. I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey," I said softly. "As long as you stick by me, you'll be perfectly fine."

He nodded again and visibly relaxed, which made me feel better than I thought it would.

-------------------

OMG he's going outside! How do you think he'll react to everything? Hmm...-ponders- I know how he'll react. Know how? I'm the author! Ha! (Sorry, I'm a whackjob.) Reviews please!

Translations:

Namarie: Farewell

Garo arad vain: Have a lovely day


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hello, all! New chapter! It was a little exhausting to write, but it's finally done! I hope you all like it!

And thanx so much for the reviews! I luv you all! -huggles-

-----------------

Disclaimer: It's not mine! I'm just playing with Legolas for the moment, but I promise I'll give him back! (maybe...-evil cackle-)

-----------------

This chapter was a little taxing, but I was mightily satisfied with the result. I hope you enjoy reading it about as much as I enjoyed writing it!

ch.8

"Relax," I murmured softly. "We're almost there. Just stay close." Legolas nodded curtly, concentrating on taking deep breaths. He made sure not to touch one person we were passing, always keeping his arm pressed tightly against mine. His eyes were wide and darting rapidly back and forth, taking in everything that was unfamiliar to him, everything that was strange, and watching for any advances as well. He was actually taking this better than I had expected him to. I had thought he would jump at every passing car and shy noticeably away from every person that walked by. Luckily, he seemed to know that fitting in and acting normal was the vital key to staying unnoticed.

Fran had come back during her lunch break, carrying a plastic bag with her, which she handed over to Legolas. He went into the bathroom to change. It took a little while, but he eventually came out wearing a pair of Mike's baggy jeans, a shirt that hung loosely around his slender frame, and a pair of sneakers that actually fit pretty well. He looked at us uncertainly as we took in his appearance, and then Fran finally said, "_Mae_ _tired_." I didn't understand what she'd said, but it must have been good, for Legolas smiled at her in relief.

After she had left, I talked to Legolas a bit about staying near me and the way people would expect him to act, and then I tied his long golden hair into a ponytail to hide his pointed ears, the look completed with a hat to hide his face. I didn't want any fangirls noticing him. That would be a totally traumatizing experience for him, one I wanted to avoid.

The park was a fifteen-minute walk from my apartment, and to get there we had to make our way down the city streets. Everything was going smoothly at the moment, much to my relief. No one saw Legolas as any different. I could see how much he was agitated, though. He was utterly tense and he was more graceful than usual, which reminded me of the night Fran attempted to touch his head for the first time. He was prepared for anything that would take him by surprise. To try and get him to calm down a little, I took his hand, and he turned tome with a grateful look for the small comfort. I smiled at him, then turned back forward, leading him through the tightly packed sidewalk.

"How much longer?" he asked me, leaning down to be heard over the sounds of passing cars and trucks as we neared a four-way intersection. We joined the small group waiting to cross the street.

"Not much farther," I replied. "You'll be able to see it before we even get there." At that point the light changed, and I led him across the street, my hand linked to his. It stayed like that the whole trip there. Not that I minded, and I don't think he did, either. He probably deeply appreciated the comfort. Nothing was said the rest of the way there, for there really wasn't anything that we needed to talk about. He simply stayed close to me for protection, and that sort of gave me a great feeling, one I hadn't felt since my little brother. I felt needed, even wanted, and it made me feel good. And, in response, it triggered in me a feeling that I was responsible for the wellbeing of another, which I actually welcomed.

Looking at Legolas, and how uneasy he was in my world, I would do everything I could to make him feel comfortable. Which was why I was dragging him to a park. I wanted him to feel more relaxed around our advanced technology and the way we did things. Simply for the sake of his feeling of security.

"Is that it?" Legolas asked, hopefulness clear in his tone, and it jarred me from my thoughts. I followed my companion's gaze and saw that he was looking at the crests of many treetops rising above a large field. I smiled as I saw the almost childlike enthusiasm written in Legolas' shining sapphire eyes.

"It sure is," I replied, and I quickened my pace, which he eagerly accommodated. His excitement was practically contagious. We crossed a few more mellow streets and stepped over the threshold, concrete becoming replaced with grass and earth. Legolas released my hand and stared at the forest across the field, a near hundred feet walk. I waited patiently at his side, letting him enjoy the moment of nature for the first time he'd been here. He took a deep breath, then released it slowly.

"Run with me, Kyla," he whispered.

"What?" I asked, bemused by his statement, but before I received an answer, he was off like a shot, sprinting over the grass with long, graceful strides. I uttered a small exclamation of "Whoa!" before taking off after him. Take my advice: never try to race an elf. I used to be the fastest runner in my high school and I used to do track, but I simply could not catch up with him. From looking at him, he made it seem so easy, with the long bounds he took. When I did catch up with him, it was long after he'd reached the forest's edge. He stood there smiling as I bent over, my hands on my knees, gasping and panting like an overheated dog.

"How nice of you to join me," he said smugly. He wasn't even out of breath!

"Oh…h-ha…ha," I muttered, placing a hand on a stitch in my side. "You with…your am-amazing…elven powers…" He smirked at me, which got him a smack on the arm. He laughed lightly, the sound echoing between the trees. It only made me smile in response. I was glad he was relaxed now that he was among his own element. The tenseness was gone from his muscles and the anxiety and nervousness he'd held in his eyes had vanished, as if the long sprint had managed to shake every negative feeling off.

Speaking of shaking off… "You lost your hat," I pointed out, gesturing at his head. He ran a hand over his shining blond hair and shrugged.

"It felt oppressing, anyway," he replied. He then removed the ponytail I'd put in for him, shaking his shoulder-length hair out. God, a model would become an assassin for that hair. He handed the hair tie to me, which I placed on my wrist, then turned toward the stretch of trees laid out before him. It was the very beginning of autumn, so there was a fine layer of leaves coating the forest floor, but most of the trees still had plenty.

Legolas took a few slow steps into the woods, the leaves barely making any noise beneath his feet. He ran his fingertips over the bark of each tree he passed, sometimes pausing and placing a palm against the trunk. After a moment or two, he would remove his hand, utter a few words in Elvish, and move on.

I watched his process from the edge of the forest, not wanting to interfere or break his concentration or anything like that. As he ventured deeper into the woods, however, I was forced to follow him or lose sight of him altogether. I kept my distance as he moved from one tree to the next, saying an Elvish blessing here and there. I wondered if he would greet every single tree in the entire forest.

At a large maple, he stopped and pressed both hands to the rough bark, and, after a second or two had passed, he smiled brightly. He then removed his shoes. Since the jeans he was wearing belonged to Mike, the pant legs were much longer than his own and went past his heels, and his toes were the only visible part of his foot. It gave him an oddly boyish appearance, completed with the large, baggy shirt and gleeful expression, and I felt myself smiling.

Before I could even blink, Legolas heaved himself up onto the lowest branch of the maple, continuing on up to the next after that faster than I had ever seen anyone climb a tree. Fran had told me of wood-elves' love for trees, but she had never told me they were part monkey! I ran to the base of the tree and gazed up as he made his way higher and higher, hardly pausing along the way.

When he at last reached a spot he favored, he craned his neck and gazed out at the rest of the forest. And then, to my great disbelief, he ran along the branch and threw himself into the next one! Apparently wood-elves were part squirrel as well, for he didn't stop there. He began leaping from tree to tree, moving speedily and efficiently through the forest. I began running to keep up, the sneakers he'd discarded tucked under my arm. It was hard running and looking up to keep track of him at the same time, not to mention glancing ahead every once in a while to make sure I didn't run into any trees.

He kept his tree-vaulting thing going for about five minutes, heading deeper into the woods. As I had mentioned before, I'd been on a track team, but a girl can only keep sprinting for so long. I was thankful when he finally stopped. He crouched on the highest branch of a beech tree, his eyes taking in his surroundings. I leaned over to catch my breath while I waited.

And waited…

I waited for nearly ten minutes while he sat perched in the beech tree, his head high as he watched the forest. He looked more animal than human in that position, sort of like a cat staring into space, utterly still, feeling the throbs of life around them. He stayed motionless, then, finally, he descended. He dropped lightly from the tree, landing at a crouch.

"_Nin goheno_," he said as he straightened.

"What?" I asked, cocking my head. His eyebrows went up, and then he shook his own head, as if trying to banish thoughts or unwanted memories.

"Sorry," he said to me. "The forest has me thinking back to my homeland and my people, and, apparently, my native tongue. What I said was 'forgive me'. I guess I needed to be among natural things more than I thought. I did not mean to take so long."

"It's alright," I assured him, standing up from where I had been sitting, my back against the trunk of a tree. "I completely understand. Though…I do wonder now, after seeing you in the trees and everything, what your culture's like. How you see nature and the world around you." He smiled pleasantly and held out a hand.

"I would love to teach you," he said softly. "Come Kyla, let me show you what it's like being within the mind of an elf." I gazed up at him with trust and took his hand.

--------------------------

"Every tree has a soul, you could say," Legolas told me as we strolled down the path. "They feel pain, both emotional and physical. Simply because they cannot move does not mean they aren't alive." He stopped and looked up at a massive oak tree. I followed his lead and halted my walking, standing patiently beside him. 

It had been hours since we first entered the forest, and Legolas had been teaching me of his people and his homeland. I'd been teaching him thus far, so I found no harm in learning more about his origin. He seemed delighted to tell me things that he had always found normal, yet it was different from my style of living. For instance, wood-elves could talk to trees. No, I'm not lying. I don't do that, remember? I mean, I'd learned in middle school that trees and plants were alive, but the way we regard them nowadays is with the attitude that they're nothing more than objects. For growing cities and towns, they're nothing more than objects that are in the way.

Legolas had a great love for forests and trees, and I could feel some of his feelings seeping into me. I could tell by the sparkle in his eye and the tenderness of which he spoke that he appreciated all of nature, including the more violent side of it, but it was within the woodlands where his heart truly lay. He taught me just about everything about forests and their inhabitants. And this is not one of those lessons you take in school, about science and biology. He told me of the different emotions nature holds, of its behavior and its reactions.

"This forest is full of sorrow and loss," Legolas had whispered, placing a slender hand against the trunk of a willow. "It weeps of the destruction of its kindred. What you see here are survivors of what was considered a massacre." I had swallowed, gazing up at the whispering leaves. Of course, the outer forest would have had to be cut down to build this part of San Diego.

Legolas then taught me of the trees' ability to speak. "They don't have clear thoughts through words, like you or me," the elf explained. "We don't even have that all the time. We mostly think through feelings and emotions, even instinct, and only when we truly focus do we translate them into words." He gently took my hand and placed it against the trunk of a nearby tree, laying his over mine. "To communicate you must forget words and cast aside every other thought except for the beating of your heart. Focus on it and whatever emotion you are feeling presently, and reach out."

I did as he told me and concentrated deeply, hearing the beat of my heart, honing in on my emotions and trying to forget any other thoughts. I vaguely felt another presence, Legolas', latch onto mine and lead me deeper into darkness. I closed my eyes and let it do what it wanted. It tugged me along for a few moments, and then I felt a small wave of emotions that did not belong to me wash over my heart and mind. I felt tall, taller than I'd ever felt before, and my feet suddenly felt encased in firm soil. I felt wind through my hair and actually even felt the small stirrings of a woodpecker's nest within my body. But the most defined of all was the feeling of patience, of wisdom, and of contentment.

With a small gasp, my eyes flew open and I turned to see Legolas smiling at me. "You felt it," he stated, not asking a question. I nodded and turned to look up at the swaying branches.

"That…I…amazing," I breathed, not able to think of anything remotely intelligent to say. Legolas smiled, took my hand, and we moved on.

After that, Legolas taught me how to climb trees, how to shift my weight at appropriate times and how to find my balance. He led me gently higher, staying close incase I miss-stepped or slipped. It was like an art, tree-climbing. I was surprised at how many tricks there were to make it easier, like in drawing or in math. Legolas kept a hand on my back or my arm at all times, like a parent first teaching their child to ride a two-wheeler, and I was actually grateful for the support. I might not have tried things (like having to jump up to catch hold of the next branch above me) that I was able to accomplish if he hadn't been so reliable.

I felt extremely proud of myself when we were finally able to reach the top of the tree, and Legolas' kind praise made my heart swell larger. We were content to stay in the tree, enjoying the view, for a little while. We observed the rest of the treetops in companionable silence until I asked, "When did you learn to climb trees?"

Legolas smiled softly, not taking his eyes from the view. "My elder sister taught me," he said, then smiled even wider. "She was an impatient teacher. She took me out into the forest when I was but an elfling, nothing more than sixty."

"Sixty years old would count as an elfling?" I asked in shock, my eyes widening. Legolas made a careless gesture with his hand.

"Elves age twelve times slower than humans," he said. "I was but five in human years, not very old at all. Not only that, a prince that young is not meant to be out in the forest. There are dangerous creatures lurking within it. Even though my people have tried to banish the evil from our land, there are still occasions when a large creature or two can slip past the enchantments. Normally the patrol is able to dispose of them before they cause any harm. But the night my sister took me out…"

"What happened?" I asked eagerly, twisting in my seat until I was straddling the branch and looking directly at him. He grinned and adopted the same position, facing me.

"She promised to teach me how to climb trees, and informed me that the only way to do that was to exit the palace grounds. I was excited at the prospect, for I had never been allowed outside the large wall that bordered the property alone. She managed to lead me into the forest by slipping past the guards, and then began her 'lesson'." He gave a hearty laugh. "Never had I had such a strict tutor. Yes, my sister loved me, but she was also determined and quite impatient. I did my best to please her."

He paused for a moment, hiking Memory Lane as he contemplated his story. "She started off by telling me that climbing trees was important for wood-elves' survival. They provided cover when we needed hiding and stealth, and refuges if predators or foes upon the ground stalked nearby. My father wished for me to be a warrior to take part in the patrols and protect my people. Patrols mostly kept to the trees while they looked for intruders or dangers.

"She then set to teaching me what I just showed you," he added, looking pointedly at me, "that and more. She would scold me when I made a mistake. I didn't appreciate her harsh words at the time, but they drove me to try harder, and that, I think, was the thing that saved my life.

"We'd been out for a few hours, and dawn was approaching. My sister and I were standing near what soon became my favorite beech tree. She was pacing back and forth, talking loudly of my gracelessness and how teaching me always took forever. It was then that I caught sight of a large, shaggy wolf behind her. It was crouching, ready to pounce, and gazing at my sister hungrily."

I was listening with rapt attention now. It was so interesting. Five-year-olds, in these days, had to watch out for strangers or fast cars. Not wolves!

"I did the only thing I could. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the tree, nearly tugging her off balance. I told her to climb. She was confused and at first didn't obey me, but then I cried, 'Wolf!' and she finally understood. We both scrambled into the tree just as the wolf came bounding out of the shadows. It nearly caught my ankle, but I was able to snatch it back before it could, and the two of us managed to reach the top of the tree safely."

Legolas paused to laugh. "We were in that tree the entire night. We were afraid that the wolf would come back if we climbed down. Heed my advice, Kyla, and never climb a tree when you're immensely tired. I had been up all night with my sister, and I was exhausted. Like human children, elflings need more sleep than the adults do.

"A patrol found us late next afternoon. They took us back to the palace." He blew out a breath. "My father was furious. He lectured us for nearly an hour on why we had the wall built around our palace, why we weren't ever allowed to go into the forest alone, and why we must always carry at least a dagger upon our persons at all times. He then went on to scold my sister for taking me out, and me for agreeing to such a foolhardy scheme."

"But he did it because he loved you, right?" I asked. "Because he'd been worried?"

"Absolutely," Legolas replied. "After he was done his rant, he fell to his knees beside us and hugged us to his chest, at the same time kissing our faces repeatedly and sobbing that he had feared the worst. According to our mother, when he had figured out that the two of us had left the palace grounds, he just about lost it and everyone in the village was set to work trying to find us. It was the first time we had ever done such a thing, and, fortunately, it was the last.

"But the good thing that came out of it was that I learned how to climb a tree."

I stared at him for a moment, then began laughing. All of that to learn how to climb a tree! Certainly hectic enough for my tastes. My laughter set Legolas off, and he joined in with me, our mixed mirth echoing around the forest.

Suddenly he grabbed my arm. "Look," he whispered, and he pointed down at the ground. I followed his gaze. I couldn't see anything for a few seconds, but then a moving patch of brown caught my eye. I smiled as I saw a buck stepping carefully between the trees, his head held proudly, his antlers arching over his ears and eyes and swinging with every swivel of his skull. Behind him padded a doe, taking the same caution, and, at her flank, a fawn plodded less gracefully, tripping over every root it passed.

Legolas eased himself from the branch and began climbing down. I wondered what on earth he was doing, but followed him anyway. He was moving incredibly slow, taking measured steps down the tree, making sure not to startle the deer. I copied his movements, not wanting to scare the buck and his family off.

When Legolas finally reached the ground, the three deer all snapped to attention, their soft brown eyes watching him intently for any threat. I froze where I was, two branches from reaching the bottom, and watched to see what would happen. Legolas took a step toward the deer, slowly raising his hands. The buck moved to stand in front of the doe and her fawn, becoming an intimidating barrier of protection. The father deer slightly lowered his head, his antlers a clear warning, but Legolas didn't back away, as I had expected him to.

"_Avo 'osto nad_," he murmured soothingly, still holding his hands out in a reassuring manner. The buck raised his head, his ears aimed forward at the elf. "_Garo_ _estel ned nin_," Legolas whispered, his voice soft. The deer was utterly still for a moment, but then, to my surprise, he moved forward and gently nosed Legolas' outstretched hand. Legolas let the buck investigate him, the deer running nose over the elf's arms and chest. Then the buck stepped forward and brushed his tongue over the area above Legolas' heart.

Apparently this was some sort of signal, for then the doe moved forward in curiosity, her fawn just a pace behind her. The two adult deer allowed Legolas to touch them and give them gentle strokes on their heads and necks. The fawn left its mother's side and stumbled over to the elf, then rubbed its head against his leg, like a cat seeking attention. Legolas bent over to grant its wish, still murmuring in Elvish.

I found the deer's' friendliness amazing. Slowly, I made the rest of the way down the tree. A twig snapped beneath my foot, and the three deer looked towards me, falling still. The buck twitched, as if about to bolt. Legolas whispered another small assurance in Elvish, then turned slowly to me and held out his hand.

"Come, Kyla," he said softly, smiling. "Slowly." I carefully came closer, seeing the deer watching me intently. When I was close enough, I laid my hand in Legolas', who brought it to the buck. The deer nosed me for a few minutes, longer than he had Legolas, but when he finished, he licked the area over my heart just as he had done with Legolas. The doe and fawn were permitted to come near me, and I tentatively reached out to touch the doe's side. Her fur felt like a cat's; it was soft and smooth, only shorter. I occupied myself with petting her for a few moments, then felt a brush at my leg. The fawn was rubbing against my shin, its little white tail flicking back and forth. I leaned over to pet it, thinking on how much it acted like a tame puppy. It even rose into my hand for more contact.

Legolas was speaking gently to the buck, brushing his hand over the deer's brow and between his eyes. The elf then leaned forward and placed a kiss on the buck's head, much to my amazement. The deer then rubbed his nose against Legolas' left shoulder and turned away, holding his tail high. The doe pressed her nose to Legolas' chest before following her mate, and the fawn licked my hand before cantering after its mother. We watched the three deer until they had disappeared.

"Do you do that sort of thing all the time?" I asked after a brief pause.

"With most forest animals," he replied, sticking his hand into his jean pockets.

"You do realize that regular humans can't do what we just did?" I then said. "The deer always bolt before we get close enough to touch them."

"Judging by the look on your face when you saw me touch the buck, I assumed that petting a deer isn't what humans do," he said logically.

There was another pause, and then we began walking down the path in companionable silence, me ruminating over what had just occurred while Legolas simply dealt with my silence and enjoyed the walk.

"Why did it lick our chests?" I suddenly asked. Legolas looked back at me, jerked from whatever reverie he'd been in.

"What?" he asked.

"The buck," I replied. "Why did it lick out chests?"

"It was his way of saying that he believed us to have good hearts," Legolas said. "He believed that, after inspecting us, we wouldn't bring his family to harm." We had arrived at the edge of the forest and stopped there, looking across the field at the city as the sky grew steadily darker. There was another minute of silence that we didn't mind at all.

"Would you like to come back here tomorrow?" I asked Legolas. He didn't remove his gaze from the large city when he answered a few moments later.

"Tomorrow," he said, and then looked down at me with a smile, "I would like you to show me where you live you life." I gazed at him, my eyebrows going up. Surely he wasn't ready for it…? But what he said next confirmed it.

"I would like you to show me the city."

----------------------

Oh boy! Sorry for those of you who wanted him in the city this chapter, but I wanted to get all of the forest stuff down before I took him to the city. Besides, the city will be in the next chapter, I promise! Reviews, please!

Translations:

Avo 'osto nad: Do not be afraid

Garo estel ned nin: Have trust in me


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hey, everybody! I'm SO sorry that this is so short, but I've had a little trouble with the quantity of homework, and, for some reason, my mind has not been my writing at all. I swear, I could not write _anything_ for a while, which is a record for me. Again, I'm so sorry that this is so short, and I'll hopefully have more to supply next time. I have so many ideas for this story and a lot to get down...:oD

Also, this chapter is a little more broken down than the others. It has a lot of sections. On that note, I'll let you read on!

----------------

Disclaimer: It's not mine...that's it. Deal with it.

----------------

ch.9

"It's not poison," I laughed, taking a sip out of my cup. Legolas raised and eyebrow and stared down at his coffee, inhaling the steam that rose into the air. I had gotten him de-caf at a warning from Fran earlier that morning.

"Keep an eye on him," she whispered to me, glancing over my shoulder to where Legolas was seated at the counter, eating his breakfast. "Elves have a lot of energy. If you give him anything with sugar or caffeine in it, he'll be bouncing off the sides of skyscrapers." I heeded her advice. She did know more than I did, after all.

Legolas took a tentative sip of his coffee and seemed to like it, for he took another. "Not bad," he said to me, and that was a good enough answer. We were walking down a busy street, taking our time. It was a pretty nice day, and a lot of people were outside, walking past us on the sidewalk. Occasionally, Legolas would ask me a question about something we passed or anything that confused him. I answered as best I could. Just as Legolas didn't know everything about forests and trees, I didn't know everything about cities. It was either that, or I couldn't find a way to explain it, but that rarely ever happened.

After we finished our coffee, I took him into a CD store. There we explored the different types of music on sale, from classical to country. It was fun, actually, and Legolas was great company. Believe it or not, but he liked the alternative rock he got a sample of.

We came to a small section where they sold DVDs, and we browsed through the movies. I was marveling at the fact that the store had "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" and "Mary Poppins" (I mean, I don't really see that anymore) when a sudden movement from Legolas caught my attention. He'd seen the "Lord of the Rings" movie on the shelf and had grabbed it from its spot, staring at the cover intently and reading the summary on the back. I slowly moved over, and he handed me the DVD after a few seconds.

"That has not occurred yet," he whispered, his eyes actually fearful as he gazed at the movie in my hands. "The Ring of Power still has yet to be found in my home. But…whatever happens, apparently I am to be a part of it." I nodded and silently placed the DVD back to its original spot.

"We have the movie at home," I told him. "Would you like to watch it tonight? So you could know what's going to happen." He paused a moment, thinking over the offer, but then, to my surprise, he shook his head.

"Nay," he said. "If I am to know what happens, I will wait for the moment to come to me, not the other way around." I accepted his decision, thinking his choice both wise and foolish at the same time, and, after buying a CD of Green Day, we exited the store. I looked at the song listing on the back of the CD as we made our way through the city streets, Legolas walking beside me.

"You like their music?" he asked suddenly, observing me. I let out a laugh and placed the CD back into the bag.

"'Like'? No, I love them," I replied. "They've been around since nearly 1994, but they weren't really that big until recently."

"Really?" he asked. "How come?"

"No one was really aware of them being there," I said. "Then they came out with the song 'American Idiot', and suddenly everyone loved them. But I've been loving them since before 'American Idiot'." We crossed a few more streets, me looking for someplace to take Legolas while he simply absorbed everything going on around him. Suddenly I pulled on his hand.

"In here," I said, smiling, and I led him across the street and into the large gray building standing on the corner.

* * *

Legolas cocked his head. 

I squinted.

"Do you see anything yet?"

"Not yet."

We both stared intently at the painting hanging on the wall in front of us, trying to find a picture in the swirling mass of colors. So far, we'd seen all sorts of things in the art gallery, and Legolas was fascinated by just about everything.

"My people have a very different art style than yours," he explained to me as we made our way through the large bare rooms. He then told me all about the artistic culture of the elves and what they used to express themselves.

"Have you ever been able to create art?" I asked, and I got a laugh in response.

"Me? No, never. The only thing I've ever done that's related to art would be the small sketches I did while in my lessons when I was much younger," he said.

"Well, then what do you do to express yourself?" I asked him. He ruminated over the question a bit, glancing at some of the paintings we passed.

"I'm a warrior," he finally answered. "I express myself through the uses of weapons."

"A little violent, don't you think?" I joked. He smiled and shook his head, at the same time rolling his sapphire eyes.

"No, it really isn't, not when you're simply sparring with another person," he said. "It's like a dance, almost. You become aware of every part of your body and simply try and use them to your advantage."

"I should like to see you wield a weapon," I said, trying to imagine what he was telling me. He smirked.

"Do you happen to have a bow or a set of long knives on you?" he asked, and held his hand out, as if expecting me to place something in it. I laughed and slapped his palm.

"You know I don't," I answered.

After the art gallery, we visited a museum, and Legolas was equally intrigued with that, if not more. We explored every nook and cranny of the museum. Legolas especially liked the section with dinosaur bones in it. We spent the most time in those three rooms, reading the facts about the prehistoric animals and gazing at the massive bones.

"Sometimes it's odd," Legolas murmured as he gazed at the massive head and bill of a triceratops. "Looking at skeletons and bones of things long dead, and you can only wonder what they might have looked like or how they might have acted." I raised my eyebrows at this idea of philosophy and followed his gaze. Legolas then shrugged. "Plus, it's awfully strange how your people find it fit to assemble the skeletons of dead animals and put them on display. Kind of creepy, actually."

He then moved on to another exhibit. I stared after him, bemused, and it was then I thought that I might never understand the complex layers of his being. Choosing to ignore it, I followed him.

And…this is where the horrible part comes. Legolas and I were looking through the scientific part of the museum when a gaggle of seventh grade girls went shuffling past. Like I said, Legolas really didn't look like Orlando Bloom at all, but he looked enough like the actor to set those stupid girls off.

Imagine this: you're in a world you don't fully understand yet, you're trying to adjust and get used to the new things…and some of the natives completely attack you.

Some of those girls even shrieked—and I mean _shrieked_—and instantly they were on his arms, crowding around him, jumping up and down, asking for an autograph…the real deal. And poor Legolas tried to be calm and ride it out, but I could tell how scared he was with all the body contact and sudden excitement. He met my eyes over the small crowd, and I saw the uncertainty, along with a silent plea for help. That frightened look was all it took to get me angry at those retarded girls.

I quickly pushed through them, ignoring the indignant shouts and heated glares I was getting for it, and grabbed his arm. Blocking him from the girls, I began pulling him out. I felt like a superhero saving a victim from deadly quicksand—quicksand that honestly _would not shut up_.

I strode swiftly for the front door, hauling Legolas after me, who was sending a glance of gratitude in my direction. I thought we were home free…but then the girls started chasing after us, the leeches! The lows a fangirl will sink just to get a measly autograph! I was forced to quicken our pace, and we left the building, zipping through the crowds on the side of the street. I didn't hear any more of those bloodthirsty girls, but I didn't stop until we were a safe distance away.

I halted when we reached a relatively quiet place, far away from the museum. I turned to Legolas, whose arm was still in my grasp. "Are you alright?" I asked concernedly. He nodded, but then, without warning, he simply wilted and slammed his back against the nearby wall, knocking his head painfully on the brick. "Legolas?" I asked instantly, gripping his arm tighter.

"I'm sorry…I'm…not used to that," he said, and I could tell he was trying to slow his breathing. "That…that was scarier than…I-I think I would like to return to your apartment now." I didn't argue. The poor guy was shaking like a blade of grass in a strong gale.

"Of course, Legolas," I replied, and I took his hand to lead him back home.

* * *

"Hey, y'all!" Fran said cheerfully as she came through the door, placing a thick southern accent over her voice. (What a dork.) "How is everyone?" Her smile fell when she saw Legolas sitting at the kitchen counter, hunched over a cup of tea I'd made for him. His face was still pale and his fingers trembled slightly in the aftermath of his fright with the girls at the museum. 

"Is there something wrong?" Fran asked, glancing at me.

"Girls," I replied curtly, and that was really all I needed to say. Her eyes widened incredulously and she looked again at the elf in the kitchen, her face sympathetic.

"Really?" she breathed. "But…her hardly even looks like him!"

"Apparently he looked like Orlando enough," I said, "Enough, at least, to set them off."

"I'm guessing he didn't take it well?" Fran asked.

"Oh, God, he was just about traumatized," I said, sinking onto the couch. "Imagine being mobbed in a world you barely know! We shouldn't take him out for a little while."

Fran nodded, hardly listening to me, then walked into the kitchen. She placed a hand on Legolas' arm, and he nearly flinched through the ceiling. "Hey," she whispered. "You're alright?" He smiled weakly and nodded.

"I'll be fine in a few more minutes," he replied. "Thanks anyway. It was just…surprising. I had no idea that would happen. It just sort of slammed into me at the most unexpected moment."

"I can't say I understand," Fran said, squeezing his shoulder in empathy, "but I can grasp at least a feeling of what you're talking about. I'm sorry this had to happen, especially to you." He shook his head.

"Like I said, I'm alright," he murmured. "I certainly won't die."

"Well, that's good," Fran said, smiling. "I haven't got a chance to really know you yet!"

-----------------------

I'm not too satisfied with this chapter. I didn't let out the "full writer" in me. It seems a little bland to me. -puts hand to heart- I promise, O Faithful Readers, I will either delete anything that I don't find meets the standards from now on and rewrite it. But this chapter will have to do. I still gots stuff to take care of.

P.S.- I decided to add the fangirls in there at the last minute. A lot of you were reviewing, saying how you thought the fangirls would act. -shrug- I hope it was satisfying enough.

Reviews please!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hey, everybody! Listen, I am _extremely_ sorry about how short this is. I've been a little busy, and, not only that, my muses have fled for some reason. It's been getting a little hard to produce any form of writing lately. Also, I want the story to start moving a little faster. There's a lot of stuff I want to get down.

Again, I'm sorry this is so short, but at least I'm satisfied with the way it turned out:oD I'll try and make it longer next time.

-------------------

Disclaimer: My brain's fried, so, again, no witty disclaimer. Legolas really isn't mine, neither is "Lord of the Rings" or anything else that the brilliant Tolkien invented.

------------------

ch.10

The next week something happened that twisted my life. As usual, I was hanging around the apartment with Legolas, enjoying his company and liking the sound of his laughter filling the rooms better than the silence that had reined before he'd been transported here. We were in the living room, the TV turned on, but we weren't watching it. We'd lost interest in the show long ago. Legolas was perched on the back of the couch, cross-legged (I honestly had no idea how he was able to sit like that without falling over, but he told me he had excellent balance earned from climbing trees and sitting on the branches), and I was reclined against the arm.

Somehow, I'm not sure how, we got on the topic of jobs, whether they were past occupations or ones we were thinking of in the future.

"I notice that Fran leaves every morning, yet you stay here," Legolas remarked, looking down at me from his seat. "And, judging by the way you both act, it's normal for you to stay home."

"I haven't had a job in a while," I admitted, reaching over to take a sip of my Pepsi. Legolas cocked his head, narrowing his eyes.

"Why is that?"

I shrugged carelessly, scratching the back of my neck. "I…never really tried to find one, to be honest. I'm not sure why, I just never had the heart to look." Legolas regarded me curiously for a while, tapping his finger against his knee.

"Everyone takes from this world," he finally whispered. "It's only proper to give back." And that's honestly all he had to say to make the guilt rise within me. Why didn't I give back? Was I just too lazy? I watched as Legolas slid down from his perch, stood smoothly to his feet, and walked over to the window. I didn't follow him. He normally had one or two hours of the day reserved as the time he would withdraw into his own mind, and I respected that by not pestering him. Besides, I was busy thinking about getting a job.

And guess what? The very next day, I slapped the paper down onto the countertop, sat, and began thoroughly reading through the job listings. I didn't just scan it; I mentally ripped the damn thing apart looking for an occupation.

And _guess what? _I found one! I felt like marching down the street waving banners. The next chance I got, I called the number listed on the page. The job opening was for a cashier and someone to restock the merchandise in a common convenient store. But hey, it was something.

As soon as the manager accepted my offer, I slammed the phone down, then ran into the living room. Legolas had been sitting on the couch, but seeing me rush in so suddenly, he stood to his feet, a baffled look on his face. Before he could ask any questions, I launched myself into his arms, laughing. It threw him off balance, and it was a good thing the couch was there, otherwise we both would have ended up on the floor.

"Kyla, what—"

Legolas cut himself off when I kissed his cheek. "Thank you," I whispered, hugging him tightly. "Thanks for giving me a kick in the ass to wake me up." With that, I released him and went skipping off, leaving him sitting on the couch, blinking with surprise.

Nothing could get me down that day. I was the happiest person, and both Fran and Legolas noticed the huge difference in my disposition. I don't know why getting a job got me so hyped, but I felt good with the idea that I would be doing as Legolas said and giving back to the world.

When the day came to finally go to the convenient store, I threw on my best outfit and rose as early as Fran. Instead of feeling drowsy, I felt energetic. It was then that I realized how detached from the world I'd been. I had always been holed up in my apartment, the only link to the outside world the computer. But now I was going out _into_ the world, and to make a contribution. It felt good.

I know, I know…you're probably thinking: 'Jeez, what's with you? All you're doing is going to work at a small store on some corner that will probably underpay you!' Well, to tell you the truth, looking back on it, I'm not sure why I was so giddy. I'm not sure how to explain it either.

So I ate breakfast with Fran, then watched as she left. She needed to leave before me, so I still had a little extra time to spend with Legolas. We stayed at the kitchen counter, joking and laughing with each other, until I caught sight of the clock over his shoulder. My smile fell and I sucked air through my teeth.

"I'm sorry, Legolas, but I have to go," I said reluctantly. He glanced back at the time, then nodded.

"Go on," he said bravely. "I'll, of course, be here when you get back." I grabbed the handle of my bag, but then hesitated. I remembered all the times I was stuck in the apartment, alone, because I didn't have a job or anywhere to go. I remembered how lonely it was. Seeing a hint of melancholy in his eyes, I almost sat down again and refused to go. But then he placed a small smile on his face and waved his hand at me.

"Go," he repeated.

"You'll be alright while I'm gone?" I asked uncertainly. His smile only grew.

"I'm not a helpless elfling," he said, prodding my arm in encouragement. "I'll be fine a few hours by myself. Go on, you don't want to be late for your job." I nodded, and, brushing my hand against his arm in farewell, I made my way to the door, leaving him staring after me from where he was sitting in the kitchen. I opened the door and looked back to meet his sapphire gaze.

"Bye," I said, waving feebly. He returned the gesture.

"_Navaer_," he said softly. "_Garo arad vaer_." I didn't understand a word, but I knew it was some form of encouragement, so I smiled and inched out of the door, closing it slowly behind me. After that, I stared at the closed door, wondering how he would spend his time. Then, assuring myself that he would be fine, I turned and headed down the stairs.

God, how I wish now that I'd turned back around, threw open the door, and planted myself in the kitchen with Legolas, refusing to go to my job. Maybe it could have prevented some bad stuff from happening.

But…I didn't, so now I have to tell you the bad stuff that _did_ happen because of me going to work.

--------------------

Mwahahahahaha...that'll keep you wondering for a little while. Reviews, please!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I'm sorry for the huge gap in updates. Since you'd never bother reading the reasons up here, I posted them at the bottom. Thanx, guys, for the reviews. They mean a lot.

-----------------------

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be mine. Sad. ;-;

-----------------------

ch.11

It was boring. That's not a very good description…but it's true. It was so boring I nearly cried. As soon as I got there, the manager told me how to work the cash machine, he told me when I needed to restock the shelves and everything, then left me to it. He didn't even tell me his name. There was another girl working there with me, but she was quiet and barely said anything at all to me, no matter how much I tried to be friendly. So I did the only thing I could…I worked.

I really won't bore you with the details of gathering things from the back and putting them on shelves, or dealing with every customer that came through asking for something. It was the first day of my new job, and I hated it. Not good.

When lunch break came, the other girl working there (I think her name was Jill or Jackie or something) was out that door faster than I could even blink. I shrugged, then hopped up onto the counter, pulling a container of leftovers out of my bag. While I was eating, I picked up the phone and dialed my number. It rang three times before it was picked up.

"Hello?" Legolas said on the other end.

"Hey, it's me," I reported, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder as I took another bite of food. I could hear a breath of relief at my proclamation.

"How is everything?" he asked. I let out a sigh.

"Normal."

"'Normal'?" he repeated. "What do you mean by 'normal'?"

"It's boring," I replied, and heard him utter a noise of understanding.

"I take it that you're not liking it very much?" he asked, and I gave a mirthless laugh.

"Are you kidding? It sucks. But it's a job. I'm not complaining as long as I get money to do it."

"Hm," he murmured in agreement.

"So how's your day been?" I asked.

"Fine," he sighed.

"Tell me the truth…" I urged him jokingly, and he laughed.

"Alright, well, let's just say this place isn't as…bright…without you here."

"What do you mean by that?"

There was a small pause, and I guessed he was fiddling with something on the other end, because I heard shuffling. "I miss you," he finally said. I really didn't know how to respond.

"Oh," I uttered, a really intelligent remark on my part, thank you very much. "Sorry." Another brilliant comment.

"Don't apologize. It was actually my doing that got you out there in the first place."

"So…what have you been doing?"

"I read some more of 'Eragon', I watched TV for a little while, and I was actually sleeping when you called."

"Seriously?" I asked, a bit surprised. "You didn't sound tired at all when you picked up."

"It doesn't take long for elves to transfer from the stage of sleep to when they're awake," he informed me. "It's not that way for humans, as I can see that you're still hovering between the two areas when you first wake up." I laughed as I recalled the way I shuffled around and mumbled incoherent things to anyone who asked me a question in the morning.

Suddenly, the annoying little bell above the door tinkled, and I glanced over to see some guy walk in and come to the counter, looking at me expectantly.

"What was that? I heard something," Legolas said, sounding confused.

"Oh, I'll see you later," I replied. "I have to go back to work."

"That's fine," he said. "I'll see you when you get home."

"Bye," I said, and, after he repeated the farewell, I hung up and hopped off the counter. "May I help you?" I asked, leaning against it and flicking my eyes up to his face. I swear, my jaw hit the floor.

Now this, dear reader, is the beginning of the bad stuff I told you about earlier. One might think it good to have a super-hot guy standing across the counter from you, wearing a warm smile, hazel eyes sparkling, but believe me, it wasn't good.

And I fell immediately for the bait. This guy was gorgeous, and I was stunned. And then he spoke. I heard angels singing in the background.

"Yeah, do you have any birthday candles?" he asked me. Such a simple question, but to me it seemed frosted with gold. "My niece is having her third birthday, and you'd be surprised how many stores don't have any in stock."

"Uh…sure," I stammered, walking around the counter. "Follow me." I led him down the aisle, to the very back of the store, where an assortment of birthday supplies were hanging. He smiled and his eyes grazed over the choices.

"Thank you so much," he told me. "Out of everything my sister gave me to buy, birthday candles was the hardest so far."

"Really?" I asked, a bit surprised. "It shouldn't be that hard."

"I know. That's what I thought," he said with a laugh, plucking a package from one of the hooks. "It's odd. I thought cities were supposed to have everything."

"That's my guess," I replied. Suddenly he turned to me, and those shining hazel eyes met mine.

"What would you recommend?" he asked, and he held up two choices: a unicorn-shaped candle and a colorful three. It seemed so weird to be helping him select a birthday candle, almost like choosing an outfit or something. But at the time, it seemed…just fine.

"You say it's your niece turning three?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yup. Hopefully she'll break out of her terrible-two stage," he laughed. I smiled and pointed to the waxen unicorn.

"I say she might like that one. I know that I absolutely loved unicorns when I was her age," I informed him. "I had unicorns all over my room. Posters, wall paper, stuffed animals…"

The man, who had been placing the dejected candle back on the hook, smiled, but then he gasped, seeming to have remembered something.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, and glanced at me apologetically. "I forgot. I have to get her a gift."

"And I'm guessing you need help with that, too?" I asked, smiling pleasantly. He shrugged, grinning.

"If you wouldn't mind," he said. I just led him over to another section of the store, where the stuffed animal rack was. For some reason, as he was browsing through the assortment of fuzzy critters, we got to talking. I had no idea how he'd done it. He just popped a question and it set me off.

Even after he'd selected a gift, we still stood there, talking and laughing like we'd been the best of friends since we were ten. It was just so easy to talk to him. He had a friendly personality, and I felt like he would understand anything I revealed about myself…almost exactly like Legolas, when I think back on it. I learned some things from him as well. I was so comfortable around him. It was so weird. Like he cast a spell or something.

I'm not sure how long we were there, but he stayed with me until it was time for me to go home. Halfway through our conversation, my coworker, Jackie, I think her name was, came back into the store. She stopped right on the threshold, staring at my new companion with wide eyes. He smiled at her, but she didn't return it. Then she ran to the bathroom and locked herself in. I wondered at her odd behavior and asked him about it.

"Beats me," he replied. But I had this strange feeling that he would know what was wrong with her. It passed quickly when he smiled at me and picked up our conversation again.

To my surprise, he even offered to walk me home. I was flattered, and I led him through the streets to my apartment building, having a grand time talking with him along the way. When we came to my doorstep, he actually bowed and kissed my hand.

"Till we next meet, madam," he murmured in a smooth voice. "By the way, since we never got around to it, my name is Alexander. Have a lovely night."

"I'm Kyla. Thanks. Bye," I said, and he turned and began walking away. I felt that it wasn't the last time I would see Mr. Alexander.

Squealing softly to express my giddiness, I opened the door and ran up the stairs as fast as I could. When I got to my apartment door, I stuck the key in and flung it wide open, sending it crashing against the wall and ricocheting back, where I caught it and closed it slowly. The place was silent.

I put my bag down, along with my keys, and stepped quietly through the apartment, searching for Legolas. I finally found him lying on the couch, stretched out comfortably, his eyes closed. I smiled.

"Still sleeping?" I whispered to myself, reaching out and touching his cheek with my fingertips. He smiled and opened his vibrant sapphire eyes.

"Actually, no," he said, and I snapped my hand back, startled. He uttered and laugh as he sat up. "I woke up when you made your noisy entrance." He stretched languidly, raising his arms over his head. "So, how did it go?"

"Oh…fine," I purred mysteriously, getting over the shock and embarassment of him being awake and swinging around to make my way to the kitchen.

"And that would mean…?" Legolas drawled, standing up and following me.

"It meant that it was fine," I said, turning on the coffee machine. Legolas leaned against the counter that served as an island in the kitchen, looking thoughtful, his eyes on my back.

"Really," he mused. "Something tells me you have something that you're hiding." I gave a gasp of mock astonishment and spun around to face him, my hand over my heart.

"Why, Legolas!" I said breathlessly, putting on a good show of acting like a horror-struck damsel. "Are you calling me a liar?" The elf smiled wickedly. Uh oh.

"I might," he murmured, and then he just hopped over the entire counter and wrapped his arms around me, trapping mine to my sides! I gave a shriek of surprise and wriggled to escape his grasp, but he was a lot stronger than he looked. Eventually I gave up and lay limp in his hold, still shaking with giggles of how ridiculous the situation was.

"Now, Kyla," he told me, his warm breath washing over my ear. "Tell me the truth. When I spoke with you earlier, you were about ready to drop from boredom, as you told me. What's got you so happy all of a sudden?"

I sealed my lips tightly closed and shook my head. I felt him smile against my ear. "Well, we'll have to change that, won't we?" he whispered, and, before I even registered what had happened, he began tickling my sides ruthlessly. I gasped and began to giggle, squirming even more. Only when I was gasping for breath did he stop. My cheeks were flushed and I was breathing hard, my dark brown hair in a disheveled mess.

"Ready to tell―wait." He suddenly released me and backed off. I felt instant confusion and turned to face him. His head was cocked, like it usually was when he was pondering, and his brow was furrowed.

"What is it?" I asked. In reponse, he leaned forward and pressed his nose against my shoulder, taking a deep breath in. When he stepped back again, he was grinning like a cheshire cat.

"You met a man," he informed me. "I can smell him on your jacket." I felt my eyes go wide, but struggled to contain my awe.

"What are you now, a dog?" I asked jokingly, turning to the coffee maker again, where it was spilling slowly out into the pitcher. When I turned back around, Legolas was perched on the counter, his legs crossed. He looked boyish in that pose, since he was still wearing the oversized jeans and T-shirt.

"What's his name?" the elf asked me casually. I rolled my eyes and went to get a mug.

"I don't know why you care, but his name's Alexander," I replied. Legolas mulled over the name, mouthing it silently.

"Interesting. How did you meet him?"

"He was looking for birthday candles."

"So, when your kids ask how you and their father met, the answer's going to be: 'We met in the most romantic way! He was looking for birthday candles, and, I swear, it was love at first sight!'" He put on this high-pitched, shrill voice. He laughed as I slapped his knee in mock indignation.

"Honestly. Grow up."

"I reached my majority years ago, thank you very much."

I smiled and shook my head. Legolas was finally really starting to adjust. It had been slow at first, but he was more comfortable than ever before. Then he started to let out his sense of humor. I had wondered why he didn't let it show before that point. He told me that elves were slow to trust, and it sometimes even took years for them to warm up to another being. Letting out his sense of humor, apparently, was one of the signs that he trusted me.

"Usually we wait before we allow our lives to be placed in the hands of another," he told me. "But for you, in the beginning, my life already was in your hands. Without you, I might not have survived. And you dealt with me gently and took everything slow. That's why I trust you, Kyla. You deserve an elf's trust."

"Apparently your body matured, but your spirit is another matter," I said, and Legolas' eyes twinkled.

"I already knew that," he informed me. "So, besides birthday candles…what did you two discuss?" I rolled my eyes and poured my coffee.

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Just stuff."

Legolas sighed in exasperation and hopped off the counter, landing lightly. "Fine, be that way," he said, walking from the room. "Maybe Fran'll be able to wrench some answers from your stubborn mouth." I nearly choked on my coffee.

"You can't tell her!" I said. That would be a disaster. The last time I told her I met a guy, she jumped all over me, talking a million miles a minute, then wouldn't let me leave her presence until I told her all about him. After that, she began musing plans and dates and what I should wear and―it hurts my brain just thinking about it. Legolas' head poked back around the corner.

"I can, and I will," he replied smoothly, grinning evilly. Elves may sound like nice creatures, but, I tell you, they are rather currupt on the inside.

"No you won't!" I shouted, and, placing my mug on the counter, I zipped towards him. He laughed and backed off as I tried to tackle him, blabbing threats of what I would do to him if he told. I pounced on him, knocking us both onto the couch, and there we wrestled until he finally got the upperhand and had me pinned to the cushions. As I panted, he said,

"Part of warrior training is hand-to-hand combat."

Then he gave me a smirk, the know-it-all.

See? It wasn't that bad at first. It was almost normal. But, I tell you, it turned out to be awful. And then I wished I'd never met Alexander in the first place. He was the one who caused so much distruction.

-----------------------

I hoped you liked it. And here's the reasons I had you wait so long:

1. I had this HUGE writer's block that kept me from writing for such a long time. It honestly sucked big time.

2. School's been a little crazy, and I'm getting all this shit I have to do for homework and stuff, so that's kept me busy.

3. Just a little while ago, I was grounded for going to the mall, which is right across the parking lot of the movie theater, where we went, when my mother told me not to. TWO WHOLE WEEKS. Her reason was because my sister was with me, I wouldn't know what to do if she was kidnapped or anything, I was responsible for her, blah blah blah. Yeah, it's all about her.

4. About halfway through my grounding, my mom found something I was looking at on the computer that she didn't approve of. She even printed it out, the wench. Major angst here. First she yelled at me, then shoved about fourteen pages of what it was under my nose, then she made me feel like shit. I was crying so hard I couldn't even breathe. I'm talking like stomach cramping, whole body trembling, tears nonstop, getting headaches kind of crying. Really bad. It was resolved, but...more grounding.

Also, I'd been asking for my own computer for Christmas, and, since she found "The Thing I Should Not Have Been Looking At", she said I wouldn't be getting one. Her excuse was lack of money, but I knew it was a cop-out. So now I'm going to have to keep arguing with my sister for a turn on the internet when that could have been easily resolved if I'd gotten my own. The sheer disappointment kept me from writing.

5. Since I was feeling so oppressed, I rode out on my bike and met my friend. We stayed out for about two hours. When I got home, my mom went on about "I didn't know where you were, I was worried" and "I had your brother and your sister to take care of, along with their friends, so I couldn't go out and look for you". Excuses, excuses. She could have piled them all into the car to come looking for me, but that's beside the point. I'd been grounded and gone out to see my friend anyway, which was a big no no. More grounding and banned from the computer.

6. Back to the writer's block, which I just recently overcame. So I'm sorry if this chapter is a little "bleh", but things you produce after and major writer's block is always "bleh". Forgive me. I hope the next update will come sooner.

Reviews, please! As you can see, I haven't had a very good month. It would make me feel a lot better. 


End file.
